Back in 2008, I was working on my fourth novel for Tor UK, and while I was getting paid what felt like a decent amount of money, I still felt like I needed an extra income stream. So I started doing paid critiques of unpublished novels, which felt like a win-win. On one hand, I got to help people get their novels up to the standard needed to submit to publishers, and on the other, I got paid.
The money from critiquing isn't spectacular, mainly because it's a supply and demand situation: if people aren't looking to get their novels assessed, then there's no work. There were maybe a couple of years between 2018 and 2021 where I was hit by a flood of work and actually made enough to live on by critiquing alone.
The more work I did, the more I came to realise that a significant number of the people submitting manuscripts were extremely focused on selling exactly one book: the one I was critiquing. Very often, it was the first book they'd ever written. Sometimes people took it hard when I told them they weren't likely to sell this, the first book they had ever written.
I was baffled by this, because hardly anybody sells their first novel. The whole point of a first novel is that it's an opportunity to figure out how to write the second.
And writing the second book is how you learn to write the third, and so on.
If you start out not knowing how to write a novel, then, chances are, the end result isn't going to be publishable, especially, especially if you're someone with zero prior experience of writing fiction.
I think I've figured out where this comes from, but to explain it, I need to start with an example: me.
In the dark days before the internet, your options for finding out about the lives of science fiction writers you admired were pretty fucking limited. Mostly, what information you could eke out came through introductions to single author short story collections, or the introductions to individual stories in collections of work by different writers. It came through biographies and autobiographies, and articles about writers by other writers. Maybe you were hardcore enough to attend science fiction conventions and see those same writers talk firsthand about their careers, as I did.
The point is, I, like all the writers I personally know, started writing novels having already learned a fair amount about the amount of effort required to write a novel, and having also learned that selling a first novel just doesn't happen very often at all. In fact, for every hundred novels that are published, only one, according to the Google search I just ran, is that author's first novel.
I joined a writing group in 1990/1991 and started attending regular weekly workshops, submitting work to be ripped apart and joining in the feral ripping apart of stories by other people whom, in some cases, I got to know well.
Here's the important thing: I was under absolutely no illusions about my skills as a writer. I knew I wasn't as good as I needed to be, in order to be as successful as I wanted to be. And I was completely fine with that.
Why? Because I had learned from reading stories by writers I admired, and from reading what they each had to say about each other, and about writing, to understand that producing a story or a book is part of a process, not an end goal.
Ray Bradbury in his Zen and the Art of Writing, for this reason, talked about how he got published by writing story after story after story and receiving rejection after rejection until the day came when he got an acceptance. And then another acceptance, and then another, and so on. It was a slow burn game then, and it is now.
The name of that game is gradual self-improvement. You want to know how to be a published author? Write something. What if that doesn't sell? Write something else. What if that doesn't sell? Write something else again. And so on. And so on. Until the day comes when it does sell.
I had ten novels traditionally published. Quite a few other writers in my old worksho have gone on to have successful, if at times varied, careers. Some have crashed and burned, others ride the tides as best they can (like me), or even achieve some modicum of fame.
I can think of one of those writers who had his first novel published. Or rather, he sold a version of his first novel, after burning the manuscript of the original draft in his back garden because, after ten years of tinkering, he was sick to the back teeth of it. He's one of the 1 in 100.
When I decided to write a novel for the first time, I was under absolutely no delusions about it being any good or not. If it turned out to be good enough to sell, then great! If not, I'd write another! In fact, I gave myself a deadline: if I wrote, say, six books and none of them sold, then I'll open a sandwich shop or something.
At the time, I told people I didn't care if my first book was shit or not: I only cared that it was one hundred thousand words of consecutive shit. That it was, in other words, a novel. A practice novel, but a novel.
To my surprise, that first book got me an agent. I re-read it a couple of years ago and I'm honestly surprised she took it on. It had a lot of problems - well, it would, wouldn't it? But I guess she saw some raw talent in there, and was willing to nurture it.
To my even greater surprise, I sold my second novel. Surprised, because I thought it would take longer. And it got some okay reviews, although to be honest, if I ever get the publishing rights back, I'm rewriting that thing to hell and back.
Every step of a writer's career is like a man adrift in the ocean jumping from one piece of flotsam to the next, trying to stay afloat. It has always been this way. I knew this, because my writing heroes told me so, repeatedly, through whatever medium they had to transmit this message. That used to be print, now it's the internet.
The thing is, some of my clients take my comments and critiques as if I'm handing down a death sentence on their potential writing career. Or at least, that's what I'm reading between the lines. Oh no! I hated your book!
Listen. I didn't hate your book.
It had things that needed to be fixed: so many, many things. Of course it did. It's your first novel! How can you expect to be one of the lucky one out of a hundred, when you quite possibly have never written even so much as a short story before? Why not just see the book you've written as necessary practice to achieve the goal of selling a future book, like I did?
Because you've spent fifteen years slaving over it? Then you shouldn't have, because it's almost certainly an extraordinary wast of your time. You should just get the damn thing written, then move on to the next thing. And then the next. And the next. And the next.
Surprisingly few of the people who came to me knew about any of this. So if you're looking to write a book and get published I'm going to tell you the secret to success: a question you need to ask yourself, and which may well define whether you do, in fact, have a shot.
Do you want to write a book, or do you want to be a writer?
That's it.
Writers write books, plural. Only in very, very rare instances do they write a book. The book is not the end goal: the process of writing multiple novels is the goal.
So if you don't sell your first novel, or you get told the chances of it selling are next to zero, it's completely fine. In fact, your having written that novel is a cause for celebration. It's the groundwork you've put down for the next book you've written, and the one after that, and the one after that...
And if the thought of all that work fills you with horror--if you think, in some way, that you've 'wasted' the effort put into that first novel--then okay, maybe you aren't a writer, per se. You're someone who's written a book, which is, I hope you now see, not really the same thing.
It isn't a race with a defined winner or loser: it's a long-distance marathon that never ends, and in which for every participant that finally collapses, exhausted, into the dirt, someone new is putting on their running shoes and jumping straight in.
Either way, I've got my fingers crossed for you that this one is the one that sells. Or if not that one, then the next. And if not that one...