Can I Tell You My Secret?
I had some spare review copies of The Runaway so I asked on social media if there were any bloggers who might read and review. Twitter did its magic and several enthusiastic book-lovers contacted me.
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The next day I got this email:
Hi
I saw your tweet about snding off copies for review just after I tweeted bemoaning the fact that reviewers/bloggers never reply.
If you dont mind could you tell me your secret?
Thanks Mr X
It was great to get so many offers because reviews are the best way to spread the word when a book comes out and I am grateful to everyone who contacted me. Book lovers are a class apart. Fact.
But I’ve heard that question, ‘Could you tell me your secret?‘ before and it seems to imply some kind of advantage, like a sister who’s the CEO of Waterstones, or a mum who runs Transworld. Or that I’m in possession of insider information, have a sinister trick up my sleeve. Am I offering sexual favours/a gramme of coke, in exchange for a well-constructed review?
Here’s what I wrote back:
Dear Mr X
Here’s my secret (actually there’s more than one…) As this is secret, please don’t share with anyone else…
Read. A lot.
Attend a weekly creative writing class at a Further Education college for one year
Remember, when the teacher ‘forgets’ to read any of your first, painful, tentative attempts at writing, that he is low-paid and probably working several other jobs
Attend the Professional Writers’ Development Programme at the brilliant Yorkshire Arts Circus [sadly now defunct so you’ll have to find an alternative]
When that brilliant organisation becomes victim to the recession, scrape together enough money to join a privately-tutored writing group
Commit to reading and critiquing your fellow students’ work on a monthly basis
After two years, when you run out of money for classes, start teaching
Remember you teach that which you most need to learn
Get a job as an editor with a literary consultancy and read, edit and critique hundreds of unpublished manuscripts
Write eight complete novels, plus half a dozen unfinished ones, plus some short stories, a handful of poems and a couple of feature-length film scripts
Edit each novel at least ten times
Submit your first novel to an independent press and don’t shit your pants when they offer to publish it
Rewrite entire novel
Decide it needs to be in a different time period and rewrite it again
When novel is published, attend writing festivals, literary events and author talks, even if it means travelling miles to speak for two minutes to an audience of three.
Spend your Saturdays in bookshops around Yorkshire persuading shoppers to take a chance on you, an unheard-of writer, instead of buying The Hunger Games
Submit work, including your fourth, fifth and sixth novels, as often as you can and embrace rejection
Learn from the experience
Do an MA in Creative Writing, whilst working part-time and trying to be an almost-good-enough parent
Spend ten years attending a writing group where you read and critique others’ work on a monthly basis
Take their criticism to heart because although it hurts, it will make you improve
Write a submission package (be warned, this is harder than writing a novel)
Research literary agents
Do a PhD in a bid to understand how/if your writing contributes to the conversation
Submit your seventh novel to a half-dozen, carefully-selected agents
Sign a contract with an agent
Rewrite entire novel
Twice
Have agent submit novel to every publishing house in the country and embrace rejection
Learn from the experience
Finally, just when you’re thinking there aren’t any publishing houses left to reject you, sign a contract with mainstream publisher
Rewrite entire novel
Twice
Apply to The Arts Council, The Society of Authors and anyone else you can think of who might grant you funding because after fifteen years you still haven’t made enough money to feed the cat on a consistently regular basis
Submit eighth novel with crossed fingers
Wait three months for a reply
Create and maintain an on-line presence, which might include but is not limited to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and a blog
When eighth novel is published, ask people, kindly, if they’re willing to review
Understand that book bloggers give up their time for free out of love for reading
Don’t moan about them, on Twitter, if they don’t want to read your book
Don’t send a badly-punctuated, un-proofed, passive-aggressive email to a peri-menopausal, time-poor, ill-tempered writer who has spent fifteen years learning how to use an apostrophe.
Good luck!
Of course, I didn’t press send. But I might drop him a line and say actually the secret is fifty quid, in used notes, sent to the following addresses…


