Crafting a Successful Book Proposal

This article shares my reflections and thoughts on crafting a successful book proposal.

A book proposal is sometimes required by mainstream publishers, to help them make an assessment of whether a book project has a good chance of succeeding.

It can be in the format of a form to be filled in, or a proposal submission in Word, or even in a table with questions to be answered. Sometimes, the publisher will work with you on the proposal, giving you guidance and questions they need answered, but at other times, you work on your proposal independently and send it in.

Over the years, I have written several successful book proposals that were accepted.

Upon reflection, I have come up with five principles of crafting a successful book proposal. I hope these practical principles will be as useful to you as they have been to me. These thoughts may help aspiring or experienced authors craft a book proposal that has a good chance of being selected by a publisher.

First, understand yourself.

Before drafting even one word, ask yourself what makes you uniquely qualified to write this particular book.

What is it about your unique experiences, particular qualifications, or life background that makes you the one who should write this book?

What is your competitive advantage in this topic, that is difficult for another author to replicate?

For example, when I was drafting the proposal for my book, My Father’s Kampung: A History of Aukang and Punggol, that explores the history of Aukang and Punggol where my father lived from 1946 to 1975, I considered that my family had lived in the area for around 30 years and had a wealth of stories to tell. I had also been collecting stories from not just my father, but also some of his close friends who lived in the area and had first-hand experiences of this particular neighbourhood.

In terms of identity, the majority of historical Aukang’s residents were Teochews. My father and I are Teochews.

The majority of residents around the historical Kangkar area in Aukang were Roman Catholics. My father and I are Roman Catholics as well.

And prior to writing this book, I had accumulated extensive experience in writing two other books on family history and community stories in Singapore. I had spoken extensively in public on family history and local heritage, and had been a small part of the Singapore Bicentennial.

I also had a Master’s of Science in Economic History from the London School of Economics and could provide the unique lens of economic history into my writing.

With such a background and relevant experiences, I was in a fairly strong position to publish My Father’s Kampung: A History of Aukang and Punggol (note that my words were chosen carefully, as the book is titled A History, and not The History).

Second, and in a related vein, understand the unique selling point of your book.

Why does the world need another book on this particular topic or theme?

What is the unique selling point about your book or its contents?

If you are writing something completely and utterly novel, you have to ask yourself the difficult question of why this particular book was never written or published before. There has to be a strong reason that hundreds of thousands of authors before you did not hit on your great idea. Is there something that you should be seeing or something that you are missing?

Or did other writers hit on your great overall idea, but their books came in other forms or covered different aspects? It is more likely the case that there would be hundreds, if not thousands, of similar, related books.

What would then differentiate you from these other authors?

For example, while there were many other non-fiction books written about the kampung (village) or kampung spirit, and by prominent writers like Josephine Chia, my book was the first one on Aukang and Punggol at the time it was published.

There were also bits and pieces about Aukang and Punggol in other authors’ books, like Robert Yeo’s Routes, but mine was the first book to have its entire focus on Aukang and Punggol, or the northeastern part of Singapore.

These examples are related to the next point, which is understanding other similar books in your landscape (or “bookscape”).

Third, understand what distinguishes your book from competing or comparable titles (“comps”).

How can you distinguish your book from comparable titles?

There is a delicate balance that needs to be carefully struck between similarity with other titles and a uniqueness or freshness about your research and writing.

On the one hand, you have to craft a book similar enough to other successful books on your topic, such that the publisher knows there is an actual market for your writing. Since there have been successful books published on your topic before, a mainstream publisher can rest assured that you would likely be a safe bet.

On the other, you cannot craft a book that is too similar, because there is a need to differentiate and distinguish yourself from the other authors. There has to be some uniqueness or freshness, otherwise there is no X-factor for you and your title.

Therefore, a delicate balance between these two competing and conflicting demands needs to be struck.

For example, when I was crafting my book proposal for My Father’s Kampung, I studied the issue carefully and found that Chia’s two books, Kampong Spirit — Gotong Royong: Life in Potong Pasir, 1955 to 1965 and Goodbye My Kampong! Potong Pasir, 1966 to 1975, were indeed roughly comparable titles. There were, in fact, “comps”.

However, I found that her books were largely anecdotal and based on her own personal experiences, rather than on academic sources or data, like oral history interviews. In contrast, my book was based on my father’s experiences and research interviews I had conducted with people who lived there, as well as various academic, research, and online sources.

As another example, I also found that Robert Yeo’s Routes: A Singaporean Memoir, 1940–75 was also comparable to my book. In fact, my book quoted some of Yeo’s childhood experiences and I also interviewed him for my book.

By understanding that Routes was a “comp”, I was able to consult Robert Yeo and obtain input that was more suited and relevant for my book. We differentiated our products from each other’s.

Fourth, identify and understand, your real target audience.

I have shared many times and on various platforms that any author needs to accurately identify and understand the target audience.

While it is an easy question to ask, it is not an easy question to answer.

Who would want to read and share your work with their family and friends? (Besides your actual family and friends, of course.)

To be fair, I find it understandable that writers want to write about topics and themes close to their hearts, without regarding the financials. Sometimes, some writers might even feel that commercial considerations might contaminate the love or passion they feel for their topic, or for their writing. Readership comes second after pursuing their passions. After all, I am similarly passionate about only a few topics and themes myself.

But the publisher wants to know if there will be an actual market for the book, with actual demand. Their concern, and understandably so, is to sell the book. They have financial concerns. Even if they do not voice their “left-hand column” out loud (although sometimes they may call you on the phone to let you know in no uncertain terms what the breakeven number of copies to be sold is), they want to make a profit and not, God forbid, lose money on their investment.

You can understand where they are coming from as they have invested time, effort, and resources into a commitment that they hope will bring them commercial success and pay the many staff who work tirelessly behind the scenes. Each book that the publisher takes on is a risk.

By identifying the likely target audience in a book proposal, an author is helping the publisher understand the estimated demand. With this information, a publisher can better understand how many potential readers are out there, and whether there is even a viable market for the book.

By understanding the target audience, an author can also benefit by crafting compelling narratives to appeal to and delight that audience. By meeting the needs, wants, and aspirations of that audience, the author in concert with the publisher can produce a book that the audience would want to buy and read, and tell all their family and friends about.

Such useful information in a book proposal could possibly help save both author and publisher possible anguish, heartache, and economic problems later down the road.

For example, by the time I wrote my second and third books, I was already able to tell my publisher the target audience I was reaching out to, how many readers were out there, and who would potentially buy such a book. I knew their ages and gender, including broad consumption patterns. I knew the relevant clan associations, government agencies, and fans and supporters, and could provide rough guesstimates of their numbers and potential interest.

And with all that information and background, I gave serious thought as to who would be delighted to read and support my work. My publisher seems to have appreciated that in me.

I think it’s safe to say that most publishers would appreciate that in an author.

Fifth, think through who would be prepared to review your work.

There are a few more important questions: who are the experts and authorities in your field?

But more importantly, who among them would be willing to put in a good word for you, and give you a blurb?

I have been greatly blessed with blurbs from kind people who were able and willing to review my work. They take me to school by giving me useful input. Sometimes, they remind me of things that I should have known.

And I acknowledge that as an author, I still have a long way to go in crafting even more compelling and powerful narrative non-fiction. There’s always a lot to learn. It’s a lifelong learning journey.

But the fact is, if you don’t ask people to review your work and give you comments, you will never know if they would be willing to read your work and give you comments on it, and a blurb.

For full disclosure, I have also sometimes sought and asked for blurbs directly, without seeking comments or input on my manuscript. In these cases, they read my manuscript and directly provide a blurb if they agree with me. If they don’t agree with what I have written, they do not provide a blurb.

Generally, my personal practice is to make it easy for the other party to say yes or no. I write politely and explain what it is that I am doing, and then ask for their permission to look through my work. If they would like to give a blurb, I would be delighted and appreciative. If they say no, or don’t reply, I might follow up for a bit, but eventually it is their right to say no.

If they say yes, I thank them profusely for taking up their valuable time, and share my draft manuscript. I generally include a caveat that they should not share this manuscript as it is still work-in-progress. I also send them a rough first cut of a blurb for them to work on, to save them some time and effort in drafting their own. I try my best to write the blurb in a way that I think they would be prepared to sign off on, and I accept with gratitude and grace whatever they send back.

Where there are comments, tracked changes, and guidance, I thank the sender profusely and genuinely see how I can weave the points in. There is no need for explanations, pushback, or defensiveness; I try my best to take all relevant points in, especially where they help to strengthen or improve my writing.

If I have made a mistake (and, believe me, these things happen more frequently than we would expect), I resolve to be even more careful in future.

Where the points do not fit or cannot be incorporated into the manuscript, even after I have done my best, then I explain politely why I could not take in the point.

Basically, I take a thankful, appreciative, and positive attitude.

Concluding Reflections

To conclude my reflections, after thinking through your relevant experience and background; your book’s unique selling point or proposition; your book’s differentiating factor in relation to comparable titles; the potential target audience; and potential reviewers, writing a successful book proposal becomes much, much easier.

Essentially, these are all about critical thinking and focusing your research for your book proposal. It’s about being clear and thoughtful on the important decision points.

With the critical thinking and focused research done, crafting the book proposal is a matter of setting these thoughts out in writing. Your well-thought out words will march crisply across the pages and soon you will have a draft proposal.

Naturally, if there are other required sections in the book proposal, you would also have to address them, like marketing and PR plans, timelines, and the like.

After you have crafted your first cut of the proposal, you would have to review your proposal, refine and tweak some phrases, and rewrite some sections to strengthen your case and arguments.

You should always edit and proofread your writing. I think most, if not all, authors know the ironclad “rule”: edit, edit, edit. Check, double-check, triple-check.

But the critical core of the background research, well-thought-through ideas, and fact-based arguments will remain indelibly in your book proposal, and ultimately persuade the publisher of the merits of your book.

At the end of the day, you would have given your book the very best chance to come to life by being picked up by the publisher.

Thank you for reading.

Cheers,
Shawn Seah

(The original story was first posted on my Medium blog on 4 June 2021. This story was updated on 12 August 2023.)