textCrunch, No. 4: Debut Novel 101

writing as a team sport, with Kate Dwyer, Isaac Fitzgerald, and Randy Winston

Sitting between publishing and academia, I am often shocked and always amused by the different ways we talk about books. The things that my colleagues and I teach in the literature classroom are dramatically different than the things that writers, agents, editors, and publishers I research think about every day. We all care about books— but we care about them in different ways.

Take my favorite example of misaligned priorities: the debut novel. I have never heard another English professor talk about debut novels. We teach first novels all the time; we often write about an author’s career arc and publication history. No one (excepté moi) has written a history or a theory of The Debut as A Thing.

But on the other side of the literary tracks, I can’t think of a topic that generates more anxiety, more obsession, more gossip, and more speculation than the debut novel. There are books, articles, chapters, podcasts, panels, contests, substacks, subreddits, Slack channels, Signal groups, mentorship programs, all focused on The Debut. It is more than just A Thing. It is A Phenomenon.

This mismatch is one reason why I was so happy to talk with Kate Dwyer for her amazing (if unsettling) piece in Esquire, “Why Are Debut Novels Failing to Launch?,” published to much fanfare in May 2024. (Another reason is because Kate, in my humble opinion, is doing some of the best reporting on the publishing industry out there.) Almost a year later, I was delighted to join Kate for Debut Novel 101 at McNally Jackson Seaport. We were joined in conversation by Isaac Fitzgerald, New York Times bestselling author of Dirtbag, Massachusetts, and Randy Winston, Creative Director of Fiction at The Black List. Our conversation was so much fun that Kate, Randy, and Isaac agreed to let me publish this edited (and much condensed) version for textCrunch readers. Enjoy!

Kate Dwyer: Laura, we talked about debuts at length while I was reporting a really depressing Esquire piece called “Why Are Debut Novels Failing to Launch?”You use the term “debut phenomenon” instead of “debut novel.” What does that phrase, debut phenomenon, mean to you?

Laura McGrath: I draw a distinction between the phrase debut phenomenon, on the one hand, and debut novel, on the other. “Debut phenomenon” is an umbrella term that I use to describe everything that happens in the debut lifecycle, including all the things that happen behind the scenes, and all of the public pomp and circumstance around debuting. The debut novel, itself, is the most important part of the debut phenomenon, but the phenomenon is bigger than just the novel. I think this distinction is important because, in effect, a debut is designed to sell two things. Of course, it’s designed to sell the debut novel. But it's also designed to sell the author. It's launching those two things at once. They are two mutually reinforcing products, if you will. And so the debut, if done successfully, will exceed the first novel and will propel the author forward to their next book, and their next one, and their next one, and their next one. So there's two different outcomes. There's a great novel, and then there's also a career.

KD: So, in a way, the author is a brand?

LM: Absolutely.

Randy Winston: I'm glad we all agree on that.

KD: What advice would you give a debut novelist right now?

RW: You’ve been thinking about craft; you need to think about the business. If you actually love writing, you are going to be thinking about craft for the rest of your life. But the business part is very important. You should map out the agents that rep the type of people that you can see yourself and your writing in conversation with. The same thing is true for editors: map out the editors who are editing the books and the stories like the ones that you want to write, and cross-reference with agents and authors. Find out where those relationships are. If you go to the acknowledgement section of any book that you love, you can find the agent's name and you can find the editor's name. The writer will shout out that editor and agent and give them their props for the work that they did on that book. When I was an MFA student, I did not want to hear any of that. All I cared about was writing. All I cared about was craft. And now, I watch friends as they go through the process, and they wish they had learned the business.

Isaac Fitzgerald: If somebody invites you to a new friendship group, it helps to have somebody that’s validating you or vouching for you, basically saying, “This person is a good person.” Same thing with a debut. It's very hard to go out cold. That's the beauty of getting an MFA. Oftentimes agents will visit those programs. You'll maybe find a professor that will vouch for you. Another way is to pitch publications and get your name out there. There are so many different magazines and websites that publish new writers all the time. You put your name out there, all of a sudden, you have something vouching for you. You have a byline. You have a link. You can send that all out. Once you do the mapping that Randy was talking about, finding the names of agents that are representing work that you respect, and you send it to them, and you say, “Hey, here's a piece that I've written. Here's a short pitch on what my project might be. Let me know if you want to talk more. Somebody told me, a long time ago, “Hollywood is getting 100 yeses just to end at a No.” Everyone in Hollywood's like, “Yeah, I love it! You're the best! We're doing this! It's gonna be great!” But then, “Sorry. Funding fell through.” Publishing is the opposite. It’s 100 nos to end in one yes. You're going to get so many rejections, and you just have to get used to it. Even with your shorter pieces, you have to keep pitching. You're going to get so many rejections, but then, you might find that one person who says yes. So, it's about putting yourself out there.

KD: How would you describe the market for debut novels?

LM: When we look at the data—a sample of about 25,000 book deals that have been made in the 21^st century—we see that, in fact, the economy for debuts is very robust. About 20% of books deals in Adult Fiction are for debut novels, in any given year. That’s the good news. 20% feels quite large to me. By comparison, 25% of deals in Adult Fiction each year are romance, whether or not it’s a debut. Romance, as a genre, is powering the publishing industry right now. It’s booming. So, walk to the Romance section of any bookstore, it’s probably huge, and you’ll get a sense of the size of the debut novel economy, across genres and categories. About 60% of debut novelists do not follow up with a second book– that’s more than half. There is a very high attrition rate in the debut economy. The willingness and the eagerness and the excitement to invest in a first novel, but not necessarily the second, is a major problem for publishing. This industry is very interested in potential, and less interested in a long-term commitment. And that's the sad reality of how this works. So while there might be a large number of debut novelists, there are fewer career novelists.

IF: Listen, I tried a lot of jobs I didn't like. And this one—being a writer—obviously takes a lot more time and a lot more effort and a lot more art and a lot more patience. But it’s a job. And no shame if you realize, “Oh, this isn't the thing I thought it was going to be.”

KD: But it's also not really a job at this point. Writing full-time is not necessarily a career in the same way that full-time job is. Even if you make six figures on your first book, when you think about how long it took you to write it, and whether you have MFA loans, and what you pay your agent, and taxes, it actually doesn't end up being that much money. Most writers can’t afford to write full-time. Should we talk about advances?

IF: Hey, who doesn't want a million dollars? Of course, you're gonna be stoked! Something to tell your friends about, something to tell your mom about. Or maybe not tell anybody, but you have a basketball court, all of a sudden! That’s one scenario. Or let’s say, you get $5,000. You get a small advance. And then you sell a million books. That feels a whole lot better than trying to make a million dollars back for a company.

RW: It's called royalties.

IF: It's royalties, and they're goddamn fantastic, and they taste delicious. There are certain people who will advise you to turn down the bigger advance. I’m going to be honest with you, I never would. I grew up poor. Take that money and run. Who gives a shit? But if you get a million dollar advance and you sell two copies of that book, you're not getting an easy seat at the table. Your next time around, you get a $5,000 advance. But that's kind of putting the cart ahead of the horse. You know, focus on making the thing good first, and then figure out what your feelings are towards the finances.

RW: You said it. You said it.

KD: Write a good book.

IF: Look, none of us got in this to be rich. And if you did, holy shit, did you make a mistake. So many books get published every year, you have no idea. I joke that I have every vice under the sun except gambling, but that’s not true. That’s publishing! It's gambling. People are just putting their chips out on the table seeing what comes back. If you want to make money, go study banking. There are so many easier ways to make money than this. But if this is all you can do—if this is a religious calling or a compulsion or a sickness—then you want to do it no matter what.

LM: I think advances are a source of so much angst because of the symbolic capital that gets associated with them. There's the actual capital, which is important l because we have loans and rent and kids and food and life. But the emotional baggage associated with the advance is all about the symbolism. How much does my publisher think I'm worth? How much is my book being evaluated for? Can you put a fine point on my literary contribution? I think that that is understandable, but also the wrong way to think about advances. Advances are not the final word on the quality of your work, your potential, or the career that you could have.

KD: There are a lot of examples of writers who have become towering figures in the publishing industry who did not receive large advances with their debut.

RW: There are so many writers who do not hit it out the park on the first book. And, to talk about craft, books are conversations with the reader. You’re going to become a better conversationalist over the long arc of your career. And hopefully that means that people want to read you more, and those numbers go up. I had a friend whose debut novel sold for $9,000 and she was devastated. Meanwhile, I'm thinking about her royalties. You’ve just got to look at both sides of it.

KD: For emerging writers, how important is social media?

RW: If you use social media for fun, you have an audience. You have a community of people that you talk to. You post things. Me, I love Le Creuset and I post about Le Creuset a lot. I love milkshakes and I post about milkshakes pretty often. I also love Arsenal! Arsenal beat Real Madrid today, great if you're an Arsenal fan. None of that has to do with a book. But, when the time comes, I know how to translate those conversations about Le Creuset and milkshakes and Arsenal into conversations about the book. It's not about me selling my book; it's about the themes in the book that I know I can connect with people in my community. The thing you should not be doing is using Instagram for the sole purpose of getting people to buy your book. Do not do that!

LM: I can’t help but think about social media as something that distracts us from doing the work by talking about the work. I would encourage a writer to spend their time working on their pages instead of developing their social media account. We look to social media because querying or going out with the book is so scary and it is so nerve-wracking, because it is out of your control. And at least, gaming your follower count feels like something you can control. And because we’re often told that agents or editors care a lot about follower counts, we can convince ourselves it’s virtuous work, and that could make the difference in your deal, and so it’s worth the time. And I think that's a useful energy and drive! I just think it should be redirected.

IF: I was Mr. Social Media. I love the internet. If you talked to me in the early 2000s, even when I was working at a bar, I was like, This is it! We're democratizing everything! Without the Internet, I'd be a very charming gas station attendant in my hometown. No kids, but they elected me to the PTA because I'm a good guy, you know? That's who I'd be. There are a lot of writers over the last 20 years who were able to parlay the Internet into some incredible opportunities. And thank God that they did. Some writers that we never would have known about. It's also diversified a lot of publishing in a way that never would have happened. But I agree with you, 100%, especially if you're writing fiction. There's a beautiful profile in the New York Times right now. There's this book called FISH TALES by Nettie Jones. It was published in 1984, edited by Toni Morrison. Jones got $3,000 for it. She never published another book after that, was in a shelter at some point. But she's still alive, and she's having this resurgence. It was just republished by FSG. I guarantee you, that resurgence didn't come from Instagram. That came from making really, really good work that stood up to the test of time. So if social media comes naturally to you, go have some fun. But as somebody who lived on Twitter for a very long time, I can tell you it didn't sell a lot of books.

KD: Where do you go from there once your debut is published?

IF: Don't rush it. Once you publish your debut, all of a sudden, there's pressure. There are expenses. And all of a sudden you feel rushed to make the next book. It's okay to take your time. It's okay to look at your career as something that's going to last for a very, very long time. There is no rush to this. I've had a front row seat to a lot of people’s success. I helped publish people and I've had a front row seat to a lot of skyrocketing careers. And so many times, people think, “Look at this overnight success!,” not knowing that those people were sweating and working for 10, 15, 20, 25, years. And so, it really is a long game.

RW: One of the living geniuses in fiction, Ayanna Mathis, took almost 10 or 12 years to write her second book. Because she's living. You just can’t get too caught up in the hoopla around the pressure to repeat. Taking care of your kids, taking care of that pet, your relationship with your partner, traveling, working that day job that pays the bills, all of that matters. You’ve got to live, too.

KD: I want to end by talking about the importance of building community. A writer's most important asset, aside from a great book, is their community. Not only because they are the first word-of-mouth network you'll have, but because they're the people you can call when things are not going so well, or when you want to celebrate a big win. You want to have other writers and other people, creative people, who can relate. I think that's really important.

IF: When I was very, very young—23 years old— I walked into a place called 826 Valencia in San Francisco. It was started by Dave Eggers and a bunch of other people to help young kids work on their own writing, and also give them a place to go after school, to work on their homework. There was a sign up front that said “STORYTELLING AND BOOK MAKING WORKSHOP,” so I walked in. I thought it was for adults, but it wasn’t. It was for children. At 23, I wanted nothing to do with children, but I couldn't just get up and walk out, because then I’d look like a dick. So, I just sat there in the back. Around the room, there were these framed pieces of paper covered in pen marks. And I raised my hand, and I asked, “What are those?” And the person running the meeting said, “That's to show kids that writing isn't a lonely art form. These are all manuscript pages from books that got published. And they are friends’ edits, or editors’ edits, or agents’ edits. And it's to show the kids that they can't make it perfect on their own.” Up until that moment, I thought writers were blessed by God. I thought they sat in white towers. They hit print. The New York Times or The New Yorker just put it on the cover, and they got a million dollars. None of that is true, but that's what I thought at the age of 23. As much as this is a lonely art form, at some point you’ve got to start playing a team sport. Go find your people.

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Kate Dwyer is a writer, editor, and Director of Events at McNally Jackson. She has reported on books, authors, and publishers in The New York Times, The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, The Cut, Esquire, The Wall Street Journal, and many other outlets.

Isaac Fitzgerald is the New York Times bestselling author of Dirtbag, Massachusetts. He appears frequently on The Today Show and his writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Atlantic, Esquire, GQ, The Guardian, The Best American Nonrequired Reading, and numerous other publications.

Randy Winston is the Creative Director of Fiction at The Black List and former Director of Writing Programs at The Center for Fiction. A 2016 graduate of the MFA program in Creative Writing (Fiction) at The New School, he sits on the board of trustees for Orion Magazine and WriteOn NYC.