BY LISA MARIE BASILE
I was at my full-time editorial corporate gig in the summer of 2017 when I got an email from an acquisitions editor at the Fair Winds Press imprint for The Quarto Group, the leading global illustrated book publisher.
It said: Would you be interested in publishing a book with us?
This oh-so-mysterious future book would become Light Magic for Dark Times, which kind of changed my entire life.
I remember double-checking the email: Am I reading this correctly? Is this some sort of MLM scheme?
For context, I’d previously published a few books of poetry (with mostly small but well-respected indie presses and organizations), and I’d been editing Luna Luna Magazine, a popular literary and magical living magazine I founded in 2013. I’d also written countless articles for dozens of magazines. I’d been featured in reviews and articles, too. In short, I felt I was ‘successful’ in my own way (whatever “success” really means), but being asked to write a nonfiction book felt…different. Electric. Unexpected.
I wrote the editor back and said, UM YES I’d be interested. And I was — not just because it felt like a great opportunity, but because I cared about the subject (more on that below).
I also asked her, point-blank, why the hell she was reaching out to me. Because imposter syndrome is very real, friends.
What made the editor notice me of all people?
My editor explained that she’d seen my writing over at Luna Luna. Specifically, she’d read pieces I wrote while in the midst of tidal, heavy, oppressive grief (I’d lost three people in one summer.) They were posts about handling grief and chronic illness and darkness with ritual and magic and writing. She’d wanted to work with someone who could write about ritual in times of crisis — me.
It was like she was crawling through the memories and fabric of my life, as if she was watching the way my blood moved and danced within me. This felt like a book I was meant to write, one that ended up healing me as I wrote its pages.
I went home and cried. I felt as though the people I’d loved, my ghosts, were beside me saying, “You have the chance to turn something heavy into something beautiful.”
The next step? The book idea would need to be developed and then it would need to be outlined. And, despite the editor’s interest, it would also need to be approved by her publisher. And this is no small task.
I needed to come up with an outline for the book and then write a proposal for it, which included:
— A proposed title: You’ll offer a title as well as alternatives (which inevitably will be changed later on)
— An ‘about me’ section: This is where you sell yourself by mentioning literally everything you have done in a coherent and impressive sort of way
— Keywords: These are the words that ‘sell’ the book: Mine included Intersectional, Feminist, Literary, Accessible, Lush, Inspired, Self-Care.
— Proof of the book’s relevance: This is all about listing other books, articles, trends, products, TV shows, and influencers who prove that there’s interest in your book’s topic. Additionally, you can list events or workshops you’ve successfully pulled off that show the book’s relevance
— Comps: You’ll want to list competing titles, plus other similar-ish titles from the same publisher
— Other titles: Let’s just say that my poetry books weren’t exactly riveting sales materials, but poetry is my first love, so I’ll always rep it
— Social media and blog or site traffic: This is the not-so-fun part of qualifying yourself via numbers and percentages. I listed my social media accounts and their followers and engagement rates, newsletter subscribers, and website traffic. (For those of you who actually like math: Since putting my first nonfiction book out about two years ago, my Instagram followers grew more than 200 percent).
— Recommendations, media coverage, features, and reviews: This is the place where you find quotables that say, “I am great!” Very awkward but necessary.
— Sample content: This contained about 10–20 pages of content from the proposed book.
I had to revise my proposal a few times, but my first book deal was finally approved on my birthday — November 3, 2017. I was in Dallas, Texas for a wedding (and pretty damn tipsy) when I got the email. I danced a little harder and drank a little too much champagne in secret toasts to myself.
I then negotiated the contract by myself. I got the money I wanted but desperately could have used agent insight when it came to my book rights.
Hint #1: Always ask for more money because this is a business and too many writers are undervalued. They can’t suddenly say, “Nevermind!” if you ask for more money. They are ready for you to ask for more.
Hint #2: Talk to an agent or lawyer when it comes to rights. They know better, I promise.
I was then told I had until late January 2018 to finish the book.
Yes, you read that correctly. I had about 2.5 months to write the thing, on top of full-time work. So, I literally skipped holiday travel to write the book alone in my apartment (and I also wrote trough some pretty nasty Ankylosing Spondylitis flare-ups, too). That sounds sad, and it perhaps is. But I loved the experience. It showed me what I could do.
It would come out on September 11, 2018. By that point, I would have a hardcover, fully-illustrated book. It would go on sale in several different countries and in places like Barnes & Noble, Urban Outfitters, Target, as well as all of our favorite local bookshops.
And then book deal #2 happened.
After Light Magic for Dark Times came out, I was asked by my publisher to write another book, which ended up becoming The Magical Writing Grimoire. Instead of the idea coming from blog posts at Luna Luna, I had the freedom to develop a book topic of my choice. I said I wanted to write about the intersection of writing and ritual.
I wrote a lengthy proposal once again — this time without the help of my acquiring editor, who by now had left the company — and it was gutted and revised yet again. After I edited it (because surprise surprise it was too poetic and not concise enough) it was finally accepted. I negotiated the deal yet again. And yet again I was asked to finish the book within three months. Still without an agent.
This book was accepted because the sales of my first book had done well — although, I won’t lie to you: The pressure to exceed sales expectations is intense. This pressure is intense and evil enough to crawl into any writer’s mind and poison it. Because the thing is, the book business is still a business. It may feel and seem softer, sweeter, and more creative (and thus less corporate or driven by money), but the bottom line is the bottom line.
Your editors want you to sell the goddamned books. And you won’t see royalties until you earn back your advance (both of which you’ll usually get with a larger publisher).
So, what got me the book deals?
When my first book was contracted, I had about 2000 followers on Instagram and maybe 4,500 on Twitter, so I wasn’t exactly an influencer (Side note: I’ve been told explicitly that being an influencer ups your odds of getting a book deal, although the sales results aren’t always “insta-worthy”). In fact, I wasn’t nearly as followed or well-known as plenty of other authors who wrote in my genre.
However, at the risk of sounding self-centered, I will tell you what I was told about what made me seem desirable:
First, they liked my writing style and voice.
Second, I had clearly demonstrated that I had both a loyal audience and a community. I launched Luna Luna in 2013, and since then I’d been writing and publishing all sorts of content that explored magic, witchcraft, writing, and more.
Third, my track record was good and my focuses were clear. I wrote a lot. I wrote a lot about my experiences with ritual. I wrote vulnerably about my beliefs and traumas. I wrote often and I both cultivated and took part in communities that wanted to know more about this. I wrote differently from some of the more mainstream voices and I didn’t adhere to expectations of what writing about magic or poetry could look like.
They also liked that I was professional, responsive, and open to their ideas (although there have been times when maybe I pushed back too hard — I’ll save that for another article).
And so, without having a massive following or a literary agent, someone somewhere — my lovely editor — stumbled across Luna Luna and found my name attached to a ritual that resonated with her.
I know several other writers who were found by editors this same way, sans mega-following, sans column at a fancy magazine, or sans literary agent. However, I also know writers who worked with agents and pitched to editors directly. Fiction, for example, is a whole different game.
What I learned about publishing, sales, and money talk
As a first-time nonfiction author, I really had no idea what to expect. I’m going into the final edits of my second nonfiction book, and this time feels acutely more intense and just as surprising.
I’m learning more and more that book-making is definitely part craft (with a lot of magic) and part strategy. Part audience development. Part social media management. Part all-the-things.
I also learned that the mystery around publishing (most people won’t tell you how much they made on a book or how many copies they sold) is perpetuated by plenty of factors: Privilege. Gatekeeping. Literal website paywalls. A fear of asking. Awkwardness around over-sharing. Authors feeling the sting of the scarcity complex (“we have to keep these secrets all to ourselves!”). Guilt that we ‘got’ something others are still seeking. Capitalism.
Where money and sales are involved — the unromantic, icky, salesy aspect of writing and creating — some people get uncomfortable. And that’s okay. Because it is uncomfortable. Taking a project you love and care for and turning it into a product or a brand-boosting tool feels unnatural.
Then, when a book is in development, you have a hundred hands all over it. They may change your cover and title even if you don’t love the results. It happens. But it is such a payoff when you hold a physical thing that represents your work and vision.
Lastly, I learned that the behind-the-scenes business and constant promotional efforts (and I mean constant — mostly from the author themselves, even with a big publisher behind you) that go into bookmaking can never take away your book’s magic or beauty.
A last note on getting writing, publishing & taking up space
Even if an editor doesn’t end up contacting you, with a solid body of resonating work (even if it’s for a blog you self-publish), you’ll be in a prime position to pitch your ideas to editors and agents.
If you believe in your work, and you want to publish it, take up space. Make your voice your priority. And believe in its worth.
Write generously and write often. Write what you love. Create a niche. Write what heals and transforms you. Write what moves you. Build communities and water them. Start a small magazine, Medium, or blog. Tend to it with regularity. Write it at night when everyone has gone to bed. Write it when you wake up in the morning. Write a page a day on your lunch break. Fill a corner of the wild Internet with your words. Never try to imitate others. Success cannot be replicated by mimicry.
Be a little business savvy about it all, too: Make sure you have an author website (there are plenty of ways to build inexpensive, easy-to-design author sites; I love Squarespace or Tumblr). Provide your contact information on the site. Develop a following and a voice on social media. Post regularly about topics you care about. Help other writers. Be authentic.
And know that every single writer views success differently and has had a different and unique experience or path.
Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine. She is the author of several books of poetry, as well as Light Magic for Dark Times, a modern collection of inspired rituals and daily practices, as well as The Magical Writing Grimoire: Use the Word as Your Wand for Magic, Manifestation & Ritual. Her work focuses heavily on trauma recovery, writing as a healing tool, chronic illness, everyday magic, and poetry. She's written for or been featured in The New York Times, Refinery 29, Self, Chakrubs, Marie Claire, Narratively, Catapult, Sabat Magazine, Bust, HelloGiggles, Best American Experimental Writing, Best American Poetry, Grimoire Magazine, and more. She's an editor at the poetry site Little Infinite as well as the co-host of Astrolushes, a podcast that conversationally explores astrology, ritual, pop culture, and literature. Lisa Marie has taught writing and ritual workshops at HausWitch in Salem, MA, Manhattanville College, and Pace University. She is also a chronic illness advocate, keeping columns at several chronic illness patient websites. She earned a Masters's degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University. You can follow her at @lisamariebasile and @Ritual_Poetica.