Culling my files recently for idea-notes, I came across an unpublished article that I wrote nearly three years ago. In our last blog post (My Book, My Daughter), artist and author Licia Berry shared her story of nearly abandoning her book after publication, so I was curious about how the experiences of the authors in this article might parallel with or contrast to her story.
When an author finishes the writing and/or publication of a book, the natural, ensuing question is, what’s next? Typing THE END is not the last step, nor is passing the manuscript to your editor, or clicking the “upload” button on CreateSpace.
There are many answers to the question of “What’s next?” which often lead to more questions and options. Does the author move on to the next manuscript? take a total writing break? temporarily delay new writing to focus on marketing this book?
But maybe we attempt to heed our responses prematurely. Perhaps a pause is necessary, not to attend to a lengthy list of non-writing to-do’s, but for tending to the emotions that are bound to present themselves when championing any effort that requires us to be open and vulnerable—any creative endeavor.
The discussions I had with two authors three years ago, which lead me to writing the article below, caused me to contemplate this question: Is it a given that first-time authors will go into something resembling depression after they publish their first book?
On consecutive days this week, I had separate conversations with two authors who recently self-published their first novels. One author spoke about her low expectations for success—not because her book is bad, but because she realizes she doesn’t yet have a following. She is realistic about being an unknown author putting her manuscript out into a sea of other works that are seeking readers. She is just beginning to build her “platform” from which she can eventually build a community of followers who will anticipate her next book. She is rightly proud of her book. One that began years ago when publishing was a very different industry. She went the route of seeking agents, waiting interminably for responses. After years, yes, literally, years of waiting, she eventually embraced self-publishing. She prepared herself and her
manuscript and got it done. Yet she has given herself no time for celebration. She is moving on, lining up her marketing efforts for book one, moving from outline to manuscript on book two.
So her view is long-term and she has a marketing plan. Her second book in the series is underway. Still, as we finished our lunch, I sensed a fragility not normally evident in her. She seemed distracted, maybe even a little unsettled.
The second author just published the first book in her series, too, one that took her less than a year to write, and she is already well into writing the third one. She tells me she promised herself before publication that her expectations for sales of the first novel would not be inflated, unreasonable. She would not allow herself high hopes. Although she has had a successful blog, she too is an unknown novelist among many. She felt she needed to be realistic with herself.
“But when it was done,” she said, “I realized that I must have had expectations. It’s like postpartum depression. I guess I thought somehow that my life would change after my book came out.”
This younger author also had sought out an agent. She succeeded, but eventually ended the relationship after a year without a publication contract. She had not experienced the endless waiting to hear from the agent(s) that the first author had, so, at first, she toyed with the idea of trying the traditional route again. In the end, she did not, but it still took her a while to shift to the idea of self-publishing.
Both of these authors are following the sage advice of experienced writers who say that when you finish one project, you should already have another project underway. So one is focusing on marketing; the other, now that she is finally a published author, is seeking “the next big thing” in her life.
Circumstances that led them to lives of writing, their writing processes, and their eventual paths to publication have been quite different. But in these conversations with them, I saw a similarity in their after-publication demeanor that I can only attribute to a sort of “letdown.” I don’t have the right or the credentials to label these authors as “depressed,” but certainly each has been changed deep to her 
core, even if just temporarily, by the experience of publishing the first book.
What has been your experience and emotion after publication? Is there a letdown or a relief? Would you label it depression, elation, or something else? How did you manage it? Did it happen again after your second book?
I’d love to hear from you—both first-time and veteran authors.
There are many answers to the question of “What’s next?” which often lead to more questions and options. Does the author move on to the next manuscript? take a total writing break? temporarily delay new writing to focus on marketing this book?
But maybe we attempt to heed our responses prematurely. Perhaps a pause is necessary, not to attend to a lengthy list of non-writing to-do’s, but for tending to the emotions that are bound to present themselves when championing any effort that requires us to be open and vulnerable—any creative endeavor.
The discussions I had with two authors three years ago, which lead me to writing the article below, caused me to contemplate this question: Is it a given that first-time authors will go into something resembling depression after they publish their first book?
On consecutive days this week, I had separate conversations with two authors who recently self-published their first novels. One author spoke about her low expectations for success—not because her book is bad, but because she realizes she doesn’t yet have a following. She is realistic about being an unknown author putting her manuscript out into a sea of other works that are seeking readers. She is just beginning to build her “platform” from which she can eventually build a community of followers who will anticipate her next book. She is rightly proud of her book. One that began years ago when publishing was a very different industry. She went the route of seeking agents, waiting interminably for responses. After years, yes, literally, years of waiting, she eventually embraced self-publishing. She prepared herself and her
manuscript and got it done. Yet she has given herself no time for celebration. She is moving on, lining up her marketing efforts for book one, moving from outline to manuscript on book two.
So her view is long-term and she has a marketing plan. Her second book in the series is underway. Still, as we finished our lunch, I sensed a fragility not normally evident in her. She seemed distracted, maybe even a little unsettled.
The second author just published the first book in her series, too, one that took her less than a year to write, and she is already well into writing the third one. She tells me she promised herself before publication that her expectations for sales of the first novel would not be inflated, unreasonable. She would not allow herself high hopes. Although she has had a successful blog, she too is an unknown novelist among many. She felt she needed to be realistic with herself.
“But when it was done,” she said, “I realized that I must have had expectations. It’s like postpartum depression. I guess I thought somehow that my life would change after my book came out.”
This younger author also had sought out an agent. She succeeded, but eventually ended the relationship after a year without a publication contract. She had not experienced the endless waiting to hear from the agent(s) that the first author had, so, at first, she toyed with the idea of trying the traditional route again. In the end, she did not, but it still took her a while to shift to the idea of self-publishing.
Both of these authors are following the sage advice of experienced writers who say that when you finish one project, you should already have another project underway. So one is focusing on marketing; the other, now that she is finally a published author, is seeking “the next big thing” in her life.
Circumstances that led them to lives of writing, their writing processes, and their eventual paths to publication have been quite different. But in these conversations with them, I saw a similarity in their after-publication demeanor that I can only attribute to a sort of “letdown.” I don’t have the right or the credentials to label these authors as “depressed,” but certainly each has been changed deep to her core, even if just temporarily, by the experience of publishing the first book.
What has been your experience and emotion after publication? Is there a letdown or a relief? Would you label it depression, elation, or something else? How did you manage it? Did it happen again after your second book?
I’d love to hear from you—both first-time and veteran authors.
Gina Edwards is a retreat leader, a certified creativity coach, and a book editor. She is also a writer, so she’s intimately familiar with the challenges and elation that come with being one.
She supports all writers—published and aspiring—who want to write as an act of courageous and necessary self-expression.
Walking the writer’s path hand-in-hand with her clients and students, she helps them establish a writing practice and define a creative life on their own terms.
I was talking to a friend last week about this very feeling. I told her it felt like the typical description of post postpartum depression. Everyone thinks I should be elated and “Over the moon” as one person put it, and I am not. I have actually felt weepy. My friend, who finished writing her book but hasn’t published, said she sometimes feels this way too. I am not self published, but didn’t have to go through an agent either. I sent it to the publisher and she saw a market for it.
I had no expectations while writing the book and do not have any expectations now. It was just a story I felt needed to be told. It doesn’t help that my husband thinks it is going to sell really well. While I think he is trying to be encouraging, it sometimes makes me feel like he expects me to get rich off the damned thing!
I am working on several new projects: A novel and several short stories, am in a critique group and am staying engaged as best I can.I hope the second book does not produce this same feeling.
Yes, Pat. There is a strange and uncomfortable mix of emotions that goes on once we feel a project is nearing completion or is done. It’s a complicated time to sort through and navigate. Stay tuned for more on this. I’m sure the topic will continue to be up for discussion.
Yes, my new book just came out on Amazon and I am depressed. This happened with my last book 2 years ago. It lasted 3 months and now it is hitting me again.
Do you recall what pulled you out of the depression last time? Perhaps there is something in that you could repeat. Or was it just time? In my talks with writers who have experienced this, one of the most effective things seems to be exactly what we don’t feel like doing when we’re depressed: starting a new project. Even if it’s simply making bullet lists of ideas, it seems to take the focus off the effects of letting the other project go.
I am also a recent, self-published author. And it is true. There is a major ‘let-down’ experienced. You do try to maintain realistic thoughts, that “you can’t expect it to happen overnight”. But when you try & push & promote & ask for likes, shares, interest, contracts &/or even a mere purchase…and the reception is low or the response is rejection OR none at all; it is like repeatedly letting air OUT of a balloon. And the balloon is you. And you don’t want to give up; because you know that the content is actually quality. You are/were able to assess your product objectively. It is sad when you have “the next best thing” and no one will give consideration or help to get you measurably…further in your published author goals.
As creative souls, we necessarily must allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to permit our work to be seen and read, which opens us to both rejection (the brutal part) and acceptance (the thing to be celebrated). Aundie, you are so right that “you don’t want to give up,” ESPECIALLY when you know the context is quality. That’s why authors must support one another in this sometimes lonesome, often frustrating, but immensely rewarding work.
Yep count me in. 1st book finally published direct through a small press in late Feb and all I do now is TRY to get the word out and garner interest. This also translates into spending money well in excess of the few sales that have materialized. I actually had book 2 in the series nearly done at time of publishing, but can barely bring myself to finish and submit the manuscript. It’s a combination of waves of depression and sinking so much time into trying to find the magic formula to promote the 1st book.
My book came out in July and so far it has sold 2 copies. I paid a publisher over $1000 to publish it. What a mistake. I promoted the book through my website and wrote an article promoting it through another website. I also dropped the price. The book still didn’t sell. I will never self-publish again. You have to be an EXPERT in marketing or your book won’t sell at all. I am tired of other people getting paid for my writing instead of me. I would advise people who think they are going to make money off their book to think again. Most self-published books do not sell. I worked for years on my book and the fact that it only sold 2 copies forced me to retire from writing.
It always breaks my heart to hear stories like yours, John. But unfortunately, I hear them too regularly. This is why I emphasize to my clients and students that if they are writing to make money, they should stop. If a writer isn’t writing for the love of the act of writing itself then it isn’t sustainable. Publishing a single book without a marketing plan–whether the author self-publishes or traditionally publishes–does not mean it will sell. Putting up a website and writing an article or two are excellent first steps. But there has to be a bigger plan behind that. There must be reason for people to visit the site besides to buy the book. Readers like to be engaged with authors and that usually means having a social media presence or going on a book tour, both of which can be frightening to authors. We simply want to write; that’s what we do best, right?!! In today’s publishing world, being an author who gets noticed (and maybe makes a little money along the way) requires tough skin, a willingness to learn new things that are out of our comfort zone (or deep pockets to pay people to do some of those things for us), and a head for promotion and marketing. If a writer does not want to embrace those things, then he/she will either quit or will continue writing because the act of doing it brings deeper meaning and understanding into his/her life. The question to ask before quitting is: Why do you write? This is harsh, but it’s reality, and it’s advice that would save a lot of people a lot of time and heartache if they heard it early in their efforts. I wish you all the best, John, no matter your decision. But my hope is that you will stick with it for the gratification it brings in the DOING of it.
Here’s the source of my depression from having my book published :dismissiveness. I had spent nearly half my life trying to get my book published, learning how to write and going through many setbacks. I had finally found a small publisher and waited two years for publication. I took a risk and paid for a Kirkus Review. The book finished in the top ten percent of books reviewed and I was ecstatic. Then I found out the book was within range of the Kirkus Star but did not receive the Star. I was still happy but my happiness diminished once this didn’t garner any local support and I could literally feel the book dying without living up to my expectations. Now I feel resentful and angry by the lack of support for my book. I have developed nothing but hatred for just about everyone I’ve reached out to and was dismissed as someone not to be taken seriously. I’ve paid for an advertising campaign that began yesterday. I was excited for about five minutes before the gloominess crept back in. My financial adviser said I could pay it back when I make my millions and that comment alone began to fester in my mind until I now hate her as well. This is just an attempt to provide insight as to how the journey has taken something away from my sense of accomplishment and replaced it with something much darker. I would never lash out at anyone but I have begun to avoid others.
Jeff, I wish I could wave a wand and make your wounds go away. Your experience is heart-wrenching, but unfortunately not uncommon. It’s real and valid.
Though no words can “fix” this, please let me attempt to offer support to you by being both a reality-checker and an upholder of your dreams as a writer. First, rest assured that I take you 100% seriously. This agony is not superficial nor overly dramatic.
If you’ve already considered some of the things I offer here, I’d love to get your perspective on where they’ve led. My hope is that, even if only in some small way, you’ll find these thoughts and ideas useful as you navigate this difficult time.
A vital ingredient in a writer’s life is community with other writers who are experiencing this path too—perhaps in varying ways, but all the same, they’re still living a writer’s life with its hills and valleys. Your comment leads me to believe you may not have such a community. If that’s true for whatever reason—because no other writers live in your area, because you aren’t involved in the community that is there, or because the existing writers’ community isn’t cooperative and supportive of one another—I urge you to find one, either in person or online. Sharing experiences gives us perspective and illuminates one another’s paths. Having a supportive community of fellow writers can be both a preventative and a remedy for writer’s agony.
Now I offer some reality-check questions that must be answered absent of emotion, thus, you may not be ready or willing to face them yet. I understand, especially given the inventory of efforts you describe in your comment. It appears you’ve done the seemingly “right” things: honed your skills, completed the book, put your heart into it, advertised. You don’t mention whether that includes a long-term marketing plan to give your book endurance and longevity. Do you have one? You refer to “the book dying without living up to my expectations.” What are/were those expectations? Have you, at some point on your journey, closely examined or re-examined what you wanted to happen in relation to the actions you’ve been capable of taking toward those expectations? That is, have your available energy, skills, finances, time, etc. matched what those expectations required or would require?
When we’ve laid our hearts and souls bare by putting everything into a book project, we crave support from others but we cannot expect it nor depend on it. Otherwise, we allow our definition of success and our satisfaction with our work to be fully in the hands of others.
In a response I made to John B’s comment on this blog post (which I encourage you to read in full), I said, “If a writer isn’t writing for the love of the act of writing itself then it [i.e., the act and regular practice of writing, and especially the long-term effort of writing and selling a book] isn’t sustainable.” I believe this because if we write for any other reason than the love of writing, too much of the outcome of our efforts is relinquished to others. It’s true that we can’t go this path alone; we must rely on others to help us get things done. But the outcome of their actions should not define how we feel about our work, should not mold our ideas of success, or suffocate our hopes and our dreams. Can you remember why you began to write in the first place? What is the feeling that pulled you in and enticed you to devote years to studying the craft and doing the writing? Is it possible for you to embrace that feeling again?
The thing you say in your comment that concerns me most is your withdrawal from others. The intensity of someone’s suffering cannot be gauged from a single comment or post, but if your emotions feel overwhelming, I urge to reach out to a professional, not to a family member, friend, or financial advisor, but to someone who has the expertise to guide you back to joy. That is my greatest wish for you, Jeff, that you are able to return to the joy of writing.
We have a writing community but since they all seemed to be in the optimistic stage, it was like they were dismissmisive as well. After all, once their masterpieces are finished, the big time publishers will be knocking on their doors. I tried to get the local libraries to at least see the merit in an editorial review and they turned away. I’ve donated 30 books to places in my community. The books cost 16 bucks apiece and my generosity didn’t warrant so much as a mention on their social media pages. I had to point out to my publisher my book wasn’t on their shop tab. I could go on forever.. It’s just been life altering. As far as mental health, I’ve spent over 20 years in the field, working with all the brilliant, young, educated minds who act like they should be rewarded for sitting in a classroom. Has beens by the time they are 23. We have clinical supervision with supremely intelligent PhD’s.. Clinical gutwind. Duh coming from an advanced degree still sounds like a duh. No thanks. I just have to get through this. Thanks for the feedback!
I recently self-published my first novel, less than three weeks ago recent, and this has really been hitting me hard. Despite having what I thought was a fairly enthusiastic audience, my social media posts were ghost towns, my online release party was spottily attended by a few friends and while ive made a few sales, it has felt utterly meaningless. I knew better than to get my hopes up about fame and fortune, immediate or otherwise because i have by no means a large following, but I’ve still found myself desperately checking my notifications for some indication that I’m not actually invisible. It’s comforting to know that other people have dealt with the same thing and made it through. A lot of the other articles I’ve read about this phenomenon have big name authors talking about how they’ll miss the characters or what have you, but that’s not exactly relatable for me lol. Thank you for showing a more down to earth side of this story
This aspect of the writing life is rarely discussed because it is uncomfortable to talk about. It makes writers squirmish and has the potential to bring up so much fear that it stops writers from writing, or at least from sharing and/or publishing their work. Honestly, that was my major concern when I first posted this topic. But it’s resonating with writers like you, Kimberly. It’s a real thing that needs to be discussed and, it’s my hope and dream that by sharing our stories of this experience, we can find ways to work through it, and perhaps even create a toolbox of things to help us manage the emotions around it. You aren’t alone. Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll come back here again. I haven’t posted for a while but knowing that authors like you are seeking support has reignited my passion for this work. Thank you for that as well.