Personal Essay As Bloodsport

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Last night I happened on writer Deanna Schwartz’s Twitter conversation about selling trauma for a byline. Maybe you’ve seen it by now — it’s elicited all sorts of responses, which means it struck a vein. And it bled.

At first, I found myself feeling — what was it, exactly? — defensive. It’s my choice to sell my trauma if I want to! I don’t need a 21-year-old’s regret to muddy my experience. But I didn’t say that. I retweeted someone else’s eloquent response about the power of writing and then I logged off.

Of course, I kept thinking about it, in the dark, in bed. All those words, all that honesty, all that hunger to be a writer.

I remember those early writer days, swirling in some haze of poverty, confusion, and eagerness. Before MFA, writing was my heart language, and poetry was my truest identity. It alchemized the Me who’d been born of pain into some new Me, a transcendent thing. My work housed all of my secrets: the foster kid secret, the homeless shelter secret, the family addiction secret. It was my underworld, alit by passion. Poetry gave my suffering meaning, even if no one read it — and for a long time, I was alright with that.

Things changed when I was fresh out of MFA. I felt the pull to prove myself as a writer — to show that the $50,000 loan I’d taken out for graduate school was not all for naught. I was writing batches of freelance ehow.com articles for $3 or $5, and I was penning celebrity gossip blog posts about people I’d never heard of, for which I was underpaid. I never asked for more. Then I started this website. Writing became less of a thing that I was compelled by spirit to do and more of a thing I had to do. Or so I thought.

That beautiful byline? It was an illusory well in the desert. It was something other, better writers got to have.

Enter xoJane. Fuuuuuck. It was about 2013 or 2014, and I wanted that publication dopamine. I wanted to say, “I published this” and go about my day knowing the Internet housed a small piece of my soul and that everyone could walk past and glare at it, its maggots festering in publication glory.

I sold my traumas and ideas for, what, $50 a pop? I wrote honestly about not using birth control and got reamed out by family members who were “concerned for my wellbeing.” And then there were the “you’re a slut” emails (which, to be honest, trickle in every so often for no reason at all).

I talked about not having health insurance and being treated poorly at a hospital when I had a ruptured ovarian cyst. Although xoJane’s readership was mainly women, they were not interested in allyship. They had fangs and they were out for blood. Rather than compassion, most commenters fixated on the fact that I’d taken a hospital selfie. You’re not really sick. You’re lying. If you’re that sick, you don’t take a selfie. (I wonder what they’d think of the many chronic illness Instagram accounts today, which specifically document the experience of being ill).

This didn’t deflate me, though. This egged me the hell on. I wanted to drench these bloodsuckers in my pain, feed them the stinking abyss of my most personal wounds. Of course, this was a coping strategy, a way of justifying the fact that I’d put all of myself on the Internet to pay a sixth of my rent. I lived in a shitty apartment, mattress on the floor, three roommates — and every $50 was a $50 that could honestly change my life that month.

Eventually, I got a job at Hearst editing personal essays for The Fix, which solicited and pumped out personal essays to the various Hearst publications — mostly Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, Good Housekeeping, and Redbook. This was probably the most stable and interesting job I’d had at that point, and I took it very seriously. In a sense, we were part of the personal essay pipeline, and I’d track views and clicks, curious to see what “performed” and what didn’t. We were sorely underpaying these writers to bare their souls — and if I could have paid them more, I would have.

In my heart, I believed that lending my editing skills to this platform was, in a way, helping these writers to bloom and grow through storytelling. I loved our writers. I gave my heart to their stories. I became their friends. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that The Fix was part of the problem. It normalized bearing your grit and glory for very little pay — which often preys on the most vulnerable among us.

Publishing personal essays should not be a cavalier process; and these stories, in all their painful detail, should not be viewed as low-hanging fruit for clicks. Humans are at the other end of these stories, and we need to treat the process with humanity.

It’s not that I think Schwartz is entirely right, though, when she says, “Don’t sell your trauma and personal experiences at all! I sold mine for $300 and regret it. It's not worth the money and byline to feel like one essay is going to follow you around forever.”

I don’t think I’d say the same, even with my background editing personal essays and being burned at the stake online.

It’s that I hope more publications don’t exploit writers.

I think it’s a good idea to tell stories, to share your pain, and to normalize, through storytelling, the issues that society turns away from. Speaking aloud erases stigma and shame. It brings us together and creates a space of tolerance and support.

Personal essays are a sort of shadow work for the collective; they ask us to look within ourselves and cast the mirror out at society. It may be bloody, but ultimately, we all learn from it.

When I finally wrote my first personal essay about my foster care experience — for The Huffington Post — it was as though my albatross had finally moved on, taking a new form as something beautiful; my wound became my guiding light.

I was proud of this story. It led to a life of foster care advocacy, and even helped secured more bylines in The New York Times and Narratively. I believe that these stories helped me get book deals and create community. It gave me the writing life I always dreamed of (and, it turns out, was always working toward).

The difference between this piece and my work for xoJane was clear to me: I had taken the time to think about if and why I really wanted to publish this particular work. I had done it not under financial pressure. I was more mentally prepared for any backlash.

I can’t say I would have known how, when, or why to write my piece if I didn’t write all that garbage back then. I can’t say I would have become who I am without that.

Regret is a strong word. It’s a word that erases the climb, the journey, the necessity of discomfort.

I don’t regret any of it.

I think each writer gets to decide what feels right for them, and I don’t blame or shame any writer who feels the pull to publish. I know the power of money when you need it badly. And I know the hunger that comes with imposter syndrome and perceived competition and even self-competition. I also don’t think it’s fair to discount someone’s trauma if they had a bad experiencing publishing a personal essay. It’s personal.

The writing life is paved with strangeness, and curiosity and hunger often lead us down roads we might not have taken otherwise. Knowing how to bloodlet and for whom can help. But sometimes, you don’t know if it was worth it until you’re bleeding. And that’s okay.

Getting A Book Deal: Everything I've Learned

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.

Republished from Medium

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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.

Publishing Your First Nonfiction Book: What I Learned

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Light Magic for Dark Times came out a year ago this September. Watching it make its way out into the world (it was a global release in English speaking countries but it has made its way to many other places) this past year has been equal parts illuminating and surreal. It’s a privilege and an honor, and I will never get used to putting my hands on a physical book of my own. The younger me is in another realm losing her mind.

If you aren’t aware, Light Magic for Dark Times was born after an editor at Quarto Publishing read a few of my rituals here at Luna Luna — particularly one around grief. I’d just suffered the loss of a few family members and was aching to understand death, and to find some sort of meaning or comfort or peace. Ritual was a safe place for me, and it made sense to fold it into my experiences. It wasn’t perfect, fancy, elaborate, or even healing all of the time. It was a process I returned to again and again, and often felt unsure about. Because, in the deep belly of sorrow, grief, shame, or darkness, it’s hard to coming to a place of healing and let yourself be healed.

So when my editor asked me to write a longer book about practices and rituals for coping in crises, I said yes — reluctantly. I wasn’t sure if I was in the headspace to do so, even though I deeply wanted to. I wanted to write for everyone who needed a friend, and for every person, who, like me, was in pain or sifting though trauma. I found that writing through emotionality can be really activating.

When it came to the spell-writing component, I wasn’t an expert (nor will I ever be, and also: I’m not sure anyone really is, as everything is so subjective) on witchcraft, but I did want to fuse my interests and love for ritual, healing, writing, self-exploration and the archetype of the witch into one space. I wrote from my eclectic, secular perspective, and invited readers to amend every ritual as needed.

And so Light Magic for Dark Times was born.

And, magnificently, the writing of this book healed me at a time when I needed it most. It was contracted the very year I’d lost several people, saw my immediate family members fall ill, and was diagnosed with a chronic illness. The week it came out I left my job to embark on freelance. It was a book that marked an era. A before and after.

The book was a doorway in, a doorway out, a personal threshold. Here’s what I learned, a year out, from writing it. It wasn’t my first book, but it was my first non-fiction book (a strange animal, indeed), and because it was new for me, it taught me so, so much.

A book isn’t the end of a journey; sometimes it’s the very beginning.

When you have a book or completed project, it can be easy to get caught up in it’s being “finished.” In a sense, it is. It’s put to bed. It’s now a part of your past. An accomplishment. This is especially potent when you’ve seen obstacles — financially, psychologically, physically — on your way to getting there.

But writing a book doesn’t always feel like closing a chapter. In fact, one book’s ending opens another’s chapter, proverbially and, in many cases, literally. The growth that comes from one book is an extension of those pages. You expand, but your roots are found deep, deep within your first works. It’s a pivot point that asks you to plot your next steps, to reflect on your growth, to find pride and self-love in your work, to be even better at your next works. Think of your first book as a mirror; it will tell you what you need to know about yourself and your craft if you listen.

You will have some regrets.

Light Magic for Dark Times taught me a few things about what felt good and what didn’t. One, people want to be heard, loved, and seen. They respond to kindness and accessibility. They appreciate sincerity and they truly do read every sentence. They want to connect. They want to feel like they have a home in your pages. I loved that I got to learn this through writing and through connecting with my readers.

But I had some regrets.

Something I didn’t anticipate: Mourning the loss of my voice throughout the book. I’m a poet, so it was extremely difficult for me to scale down my lush prose so that a ritual or practice could fit on each page. That was daunting to me, and to achieve it, I felt I had to water down my language quite a bit. It’s taken some time to reconcile this fact and to understand that moving from poetry to this sort of nonfiction did require me to kill my darlings.

However, it only made me fight harder to preserve my voice and format for my next book, The Magical Writing Grimoire — which, I hope, has the space and breath to reflect my writing style much more.

The thing is, this wasn’t a loss. It was a learning experience, and it was a way for me to adapt, expand, and respect my voice, style, and capabilities. So, I’d urge you to learn from your first books, and give yourself some kudos for editorial fluidity and adaptability. Regrets happen. Try not to dwell on them. Let them catapult you.

Book sales, preorders, and numbers matter. Sorry, but it’s true.

Look — everyone always says that an author has to hustle, and that’s not a lie. I may be a Capricorn rising, sure, but I think everyone should put in the work.

Doesn’t your work deserve eyes?

I spent a wild amount of time promoting this book (and I still do), thinking of unique ways to share it without being excessive, grotesquely capitalist, or drenching my followers’ inboxes with “buy my book” requests. I likely have failed in some ways. I hand-made made gifts — little spell kits — for book buyers. I hand-wrote letters to editors. I emailed everyone I’d ever sort of worked with. I took a lot of time making connections with people, answering emails, setting up interviews. It needs to get done. And even I had a marketing manager!

All in all, the promotion of a book (especially if you don’t have an agent or a particularly hands-on marketing team) is fucking challenging. It asks you to seriously stop questioning yourself and to step into your power.

There’s a difference between ego or obnoxious promotion and transparent hustle.

Your book doing well can mean getting another book deal, being invited to host workshops, or pivoting your work into whatever direction you see fit. If that doesn’t interest you, that’s fine — but I’m talking directly to those who want to sell their books.

Here are some book promotion ideas and insights:

Preorder seriously matter. Getting preorders bumps your book in the algorithm on pub day. Seriously, get pre-orders.

Ask literally everyone for interviews. Email everyone you know for help. Develop a smart, quick email template that introduces yourself, the book, and any ideas you have for promotion. Keep it to 2-3 small paragraphs and send follow-ups.

Promote other writers. Don’t do this just for the kickback, though. When we give good we get good.

Develop a killer social strategy. You might hate social media, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore it. It’s not beneath you.

You don’t have to focus on sales to drive sales. If you create meaningful content and drop in the link to your book every once in a while, that’s smart. One tweet every three weeks is not enough, sorry, so use a tweet or post scheduler (and go forth.

A smart social strategy also means thinking about your Instagram grid (I know, kill me, please), the purpose of your pictures or captions, and thanking people who acknowledge your work on Instagram or Twitter. Seriously, thank your readers. I can’t stress this enough.

Join groups, forums and communities. Share your work in these groups when it’s appropriate and in a relevant fashion. Do make sure that your only interactions aren’t “Buy my book!” Yuck.

Spread your roots. Keep a blog. Create an interview series. Launch a podcast. Host a community group online. You can do all of this for free. The more of a root system you have, the more potential there is to share your work. This doesn’t have to be a capitalist venture; start from the point of wanting involvement and connection. If someone buys your book, even better.

Reframe your ideas of promotion: I’m going to just say it straight-up: Promoting your book is your job. You are not annoying people. I repeat: This is your job, even if we’re taught to separate art and money. Even if we’re taught that selling books makes us a sell-out. Even if you have been told that artists are supposed to suffer. No.

If you want to write books and not promote them, that’s fine — but if you want readers, you can’t expect them to come to you. Nope. You can’t expect your marketing team (if you even have one) to do all the grunt work. Because soon enough, another book will be released, and they will have other matters to focus on. Think of book promotion as a sustained drip; not a flood.

Do it for your younger self. Do it for your pain and trauma. Do it for your growth.

Share your work.

Your book doesn’t make you an expert. It makes you a student.

Finishing a book is an opportunity to share your work, voice, and ideas with others, yes, but it’s imperative that you listen after it’s published. A lot of people say, ‘don’t read the reviews!’ and while this can be a wise idea, you should listen in from time to time.

What did readers like or dislike? What would have affected them more? What do they see as your strengths? Where did you fail them? What was poorly done? What was beautiful?

Let go of the ego. All of the pictures, attention, and media coverage is temporary. Your job is to be grateful for any positive response you get and then understand how you can grow from there.

People are going to really dislike your book.

I see a lot of bad reviews for lots of books. This may happen to your book too. Some are valid, sure, but others are straight-up ridiculous: “Why wasn’t the book about THIS” or “I don’t agree with the author.” There are just some things you can’t argue with. One book can’t cover every single person’s expectations or experience, so just move on.

Light Magic for Dark Times, so far, has been understood for what it is: An accessible guide to adding ritual and magic to your life, no matter your belief system. The book’s intro explicitly says that it’s not an introduction nor an explanatory guide to witchcraft, but guess what? There have been one or two readers who were peeved that the book wasn’t witchy enough or that it was too accessible.

The thing is, that was my point. And although the ego hurts a little after reading these blows, you have to let it go. Because what’s more important? The fact that you wrote a book or the idea of someone, somewhere, or gravely misunderstood your intention and then went online to complain about it? Thank u, next.

The desire to heal and be understood is universal, no matter what you write.

Maybe you write thrillers or poetry or essays or erotic sci-fi. Whatever. Maybe your work doesn’t center on healing. The thing is, you’re giving something to your readers. Maybe it’s an escape. Maybe it’s a way to find inspiration in another character’s strength. Maybe it’s a way to find solace in grief. When you approach your writing as a gift of love and service to the world, I believe it strengthens it.

I am so grateful that Light Magic for Dark Times has helped people. It’s healed me. It’s created an echo of love that I will never forget and never take for granted. If this has taught me anything, it’s that humans come to books to be seen, to be known, to be transformed. Writing (and reading) has forever been changed for me because of this. And I think that’s an electric, beautiful thing.

You can check out LIGHT MAGIC FOR DARK TIMES right here.

Writing & Publishing Your First Book: Here's What You Should Know

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Wild Words is an everyday, accessible, friendly series of how-tos around publishing, writing, and creating. It’s a response to the many inbox queries we get around writing (a lot of our readers come here for the literature, and also want to write!). There is no way these entries can be totally comprehensive, but it’s aimed to provide a general overview of any given topic. Feel free to leave questions (and additional advice!) in the comments below or tweet us at @lunalunamag.

Discussions around the publishing industry can feel somewhat elusive, like a secret society to which you’ll never get an invite. And sometimes, even when you’re in the club, you feel invisible. And that’s partially because writers generally keep quiet about their deals, advances, and agents. It may also come down to internalized elitism; some people protect their knowledge as if hoarding it will ensure they stay successful.

I think the more we help one another out, the better the book industry does as a whole. (One piece I really liked about one writer’s book publishing experience is “In Praise of the Starter Book,” by Alex DiFrancesco.

So, here’s what I’ve learned before and during the process of publishing my first nonfiction collection. Know that I offer up this information not as gospel but as my experience, in the hopes of breaking down some of the mystery.

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Thank you to @window.syl for this dreamy delectable shot of my little babe, Light Magic for Dark Times! I have good and bad news about the book. The bad: it’s basically out of stock at Amazon (which means the price is a bit higher there and if you get it there, it’ll take a month or so to deliver). The good news? The book was so successful it’s going into its second printing! If you would like to get your hands on the book I suggest getting it in local stores (check indiebound.org to see where by you), or going to or ordering from @barnesandnoble, hitting up @urbanoutfitters in NYC or ordering it online. You can also get the ebook! UK, Canada, NZ, and Australia; your major retailers has it for purchase online! You can always DM me for help finding her 🖤🙏🏽 thank you endlessly. Love you.

A post shared by Lisa Marie Basile (@lisamariebasile) on Feb 4, 2019 at 8:26am PST

Indie or Commercial publisher? It’s your choice, and yours alone

There are pros and cons to both! People like to say that you don’t have creative liberty with a big press or that small presses won’t support you as much. But these are generalizations. These are also reductive ideas. There are lots of commercial publishers who give authors a great deal of say in the creative design while there are tons of small presses that work their asses off to support their authors and book lists.

I published my first non-fiction on September 11, 2018, although I’d published several books of poetry with indie presses before then. My nonfiction book was published with a global publisher. It was distributed in several countries, and stocked in just about every store you can think of — from a Barnes and Noble in Florida to an indie shop in North Dakota to an esoteric shop in Scotland. Funnily enough, Australia seems to love the book (thanks, Australia!).

The process was entirely different from what I’d experienced in poetry. For one, I was given an advance (which is rare in poetry) and worked with a large team of people — from designers and copy-editors to marketing managers and sales managers. And because the book would have a global release, the publishing process focused heavily on the business elements: There was an expectation to get hundreds of preorders, attain media coverage, and push the book after its release.

I’m so happy that the book has done well; it’s already in its second printing, and I'm working on a follow-up with my publisher. That said, poetry and indie publishing is where my heart is at, and I will never leave it behind. With indie presses, you really get to collaborate at an intimate, beautiful level; plus, there is a different kind of pressure when you don’t have global distribution. It becomes more about the art and less about the numbers. That’s always, always a win.

You don’t need an agent for every book deal

I found out through a good number of friends —and I’m talking about nonfiction here — that they didn’t pitch their books to agents or publishers/editors. In fact, it was their body of already-published work that resonated with the acquiring editor, publisher, or agent, leading them to being contacted about writing a book.

I didn’t have an agent when negotiating my first book. How did it work? I wrote a few articles for Luna Luna that an editor ended up reading and liking. She then reached out to me about writing what would become Light Magic for Dark Times, as she was seeking someone with a dedicated background in the wellness and magic areas. We went back and forth for a few weeks ensuring we were aligned on our visions.

It’s important to note that I had a website with a clear ‘contact me’ page, and that I was running Luna Luna, which is pretty visible in certain niche communities. In short, get out there: Edit a blog others submit to. Or keep a blog for yourself. And create a path of least resistance for opportunities to come your way.

Do your publishing research and read your contract line by line

During the contract process I learned that it’s extremely important to validate whether or not an opportunity is legitimate and fair and transparent. Ask questions, see if anyone you know has worked with the person or the publishing house, and make sure that other books published by the press are ones you’d want to read. Is the press about to go under? How are its sales? Are its other books any good?

My publisher had worked on great books, and my editor was very transparent the whole time. Of course there were some contractual things I wish I could have changed, like escalating royalty amounts (your royalty may change after a certain # of books are sold) or keeping certain rights (and perhaps would have with an agent) but overall my experience was good.

I was able to negotiate my deal myself, and I did a lot of research in order to do this — both through asking people things and using the Internet. I researched advances, royalties, payment schedule, and other details. My advice would be to do your research if you do get a contract, and to consult with an agent if possible — even if it’s not your agent.

In terms of navigating contracts, I recommend reading these pieces of advice: this, this, this, this, this and this.

Getting a literary agent or editor

There’s no hard or fast rule here. You can email an agent or editor when you’re done with your work (most want to see finished work) or even if you don’t have a book ready. Maybe you just want to introduce yourself. Maybe you meet at a literary conference. Maybe you ask friends who have agents to send you contacts. Maybe you cold-tweet an agent or editor and tell them you love their work and that you’re working on a proposal for them. In today’s world, you’re ultra-connected. Take of advantage of that but know your boundaries. And don’t expect responses. (Sorry, but it’s true).

There are a lot of agents out there, just as there are a lot of publishing houses and editors. You’ll find agents soliciting new writers’ work via Twitter, but you’ll also see agencies listing specific calls for types of queries (here’s an example of a literary agency call for submissions.) And here’s a customizable list of literary agents you can reach out to.

You’re going to want to personalize your queries enough to speak to why you’d like to work with that agent or agency. Most agents want to see finished work, along with a synopsis (here’s a checklist for novelists, although much of this applies to any writer).

When it comes to editors, many will only accept agented work, which means you can’t just send them a submission. However, there are plenty of presses that do accept unsolicited or unagented work. Look for independent presses, many of whom are very open.

The most important piece of advice I have is to be respectful and authentic when contacting agents and editors. You need to be able to explain the core root of your work, along with its relevancy, immediately. Show that you know something about the editor or agent; you wouldn’t believe the amount of bland “Please consider my book for publication” emails these people get. Show a little color. Be personable but professional. Why do you love that editor, that agent, or that publishing house? Ultimately, your talent and voice is what gets the deal, but your personality can help you get in the door.

Here’s an examination of the pros and cons of working with an agent.

Do you need an agent for poetry?

I’ve published several books of poetry. All of them have been with small presses or literary organizations. I simply submitted directly, without an agent — and this is the case for 99% of poetry. Poets usually quite simply submit their work directly to a press for publication. For some larger institutions or major presses, this may not be the case, but for any poet who wants to publish a book, there are thousands of great independent presses that will publish you without an agent.

My advice would be to get single poems published first, and then consider submitting your work for book publication. This helps book editors get a sense for who you and what you’ve done, and it lets them know you have an audience. I’m sure there are other poets who have not done it this way, though, and that’s fine, too.

When working with an editor, find a balance between respectful deference & self-advocacy

As a new author, you will find that it's harder to ask for what you want. For one, you might feel as though you have no right to ask for more money, to demand your book's cover color, or to argue against the publisher's title ideas.

In general, the publishing process is a collaborative one — which is something that will prove illuminating. I'm grateful for that collaborative spirit. However, when you are a new writer, you have to learn to read the room a little. This means learning when to defer to the editor, who likely knows the market and the business side of things better than you do, and it means standing up for your vision when appropriate. You know your work, your voice, your market, and your vision. The book is yours. The book is literally your creation.

Use your voice when you have a gut reaction to your publisher's choices. If you hate the cover color or font, make a stand. I cannot understate this more. My book was late to the printer because I refused to sign-off on the cover, which was designed three times.

When we'd finally settled on a general cover, my editors fought for a dark blue cover. In my mind, I saw my book in a light shade, like pink or ivory. Thus began a slightly uncomfortable back-and-forth, but I stood firm, un-moving — all while being respectful. Luckily, my editor went to bat for me in tremendous ways. In the end, I think the book’s color greatly contributed to its success. It stands out amongst a sea of darker covers, and the marbled pink communicates my vision, that the book is friendly, caring, and kind.

Don’t let a book deal change your relationship to writing

The issue with getting a book deal is that you feel somewhat like you’ve reached literary heaven, and in many ways you have. That same passion that you felt about your work can easily be lost to the editing, promotion and the worry-anxiety-imposter syndrome fest that inevitably follows suit. Be mindful to keep your relationship with writing. When I am not, it’s like I train my brain to say "publishing is the end goal," when really, it's about the writing. Writing is always there for you; she is your original home. She is beautiful and generative even when everything else feels still, heavy, or scary.

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Some (maybe useful!?) #writingadvice: One of the things I consistently am messaged about here on Instagram and also on Facebook is how someone can become a poet (& a published poet). I believe there is an element of mystery, a sort of occult silence, surrounding a poem and the poet’s work. I love that, and I’m in love with that as well—but there are many who feel frightened by this, or feel put off by it. Lean into that, embrace that strangeness. Poetry is a shadow state, but it’s not exclusive to anyone. You can write poetry too. . I also believe that poetry can be a tool for wellness, intentional living, and ritual. Poetry has long been used in all sorts of magic and its musicality and rhythm is meditative, transformative. It can be confessional. It can be bilingual. It can tell the story that ordinary language cannot. Poetry is what happens when you are both looking at and looking away from something. For many, it’s about sharing or expressing some truth, some in-between, some intangible which cannot be otherwise expressed. . I suggest starting by reading poetry as much and as often as you can. Don’t just read the people everyone suggests you read, go to a poetry bookstore and browse until your heart falls into something authentically. Note what you like and what you don’t. Write and write and write. Don’t give into cliché. Right honestly and don’t pay attention to bestsellers or popular voices. Emerge of your own. Find a few literary journals online—@lunalunamag is one!—and send them your poetry. Make sure you format each poem to a single page and follow closely the journal’s instructions. You will be rejected many times. You will also be published. Focus on your craft and not rushing yourself. Focus on your voice and what truth you want to tell. Don’t listen to any rules about what makes or does not make poetry. When you finally do share it, share it because you want to. Not because you think it will give you accolade or fame or money. It likely will not. But it will become a holiness. . 📷 This picture is my newest baby, “Nympholepsy” sitting there being beautiful. 🖤

A post shared by Lisa Marie Basile (@lisamariebasile) on Jan 8, 2019 at 12:17pm PST

Imposter syndrome is natural and potentially inevitable

I’ve talked with so many writers about imposter syndrome. This little beast is natural, and there’s almost no way past it but through. You will feel you don’t deserve a book, your voice doesn’t matter, that you cheated someone or something, that no one will like your work, that you’re not nearly as good as your peers, and every little thing in between. The reality is that there’s no solid advice here; you simply must accept that these thoughts are normal, most people have them, and that they will pass. All that said…

Take note of your hard work

You are a writer for a reason. Your passion, your drive, your vision, and your dedication is what brought you to this very point. That’s enough. That’s more than enough. The rest is just politics and bullshit you internalize about yourself and success, and the disease of elitism teaching you that you’re not enough.

I like to create a gratitude board where I pin photos or arrange words that celebrate my successes and projects. (Remember success looks very different for each of us; sometimes it’s finishing a paragraph or a chapter, and sometimes it’s finishing your book).

Be ready to promote your work

This is the best advice I can give you: Be ready to promote your work. I don’t mean post about it once a month on Facebook. I mean make spreadsheets of people you want to reach out, reviewers you’d like your work to be reviewed by, magazines you want to be interviewed by, and stores who might want to stock your book. Even if you work with [insert-fancy-name-press-here], you will be the one generating book sales. Your publishing company can help, yes, but there’s nothing like an author’s touch. Don’t be afraid to promote. It’s literally your job.

Quadruple the output if you’re on an indie press. Yes, this might sound scary — but if you want the book to reach readers, it’s a necessity.

You will lose people when you succeed, but you will gain so much more

In artistic communities, there is always a small percentage of people who let ego and jealousy run rampant. This makes it hard for them to congratulate you, support you, or even recognize you. Sometimes, silence speaks loudly. Don’t be surprised if your peers, colleagues, and even friends act differently toward you.

We’ve all been working toward a goal of being seen and validated; many people aren’t given the opportunity to bloom — whether it be because of a lack of access, a lack of money, a lack of time or childcare, illness, or a lack of drive.

What we can do is continue sending the elevator back down. Continue supporting people by sharing their work. Continue sharing our knowledge. Continue creating a space where other voices can shine. But what we can’t do is change the way people feel about our success. And, you know, it’s not really about you; it’s about them. Take comfort in that.

When you publish your first book, it can leave you with all that imposter syndrome, yes — but it also gives you a dose of confidence, a sense of accomplishment, a new set of skills, and insight as to how this all works. You will likely meet new friends, join new communities, and even be offered new opportunities. Revel in that.

Reader Questions

I asked Luna Luna readers what they’d like me to answer in this column, so here are their questions:

Q: What is one piece of advice that is passed on less of the time that helped you break through to being published?

I think there’s this idea that you need to spend money on expensive residencies, get published only in the big journals (like Tin House, Paris Review) or attend the best MFA programs. I did attend an MFA program, and I can say that while it gave me the credentials to teach, all of my opportunities came from sending my work to indie journals, connecting with writers in digital spaces and at free literary readings, and working hard to hone my craft. With a full-time job, medical bills and other necessities, you do what you can. Do your best work, and don’t let elitist or reductive ideas and opinions get to you. The literati is a small contingent.

There is not one path to publication.

Q: Does it matter if you write into a genre or ideology that happens to be trendy or popular? Like I feel like nonfiction memoirs are coming out all the time now, should we all be writing memoirs? (No shade I read and love them).

Definitely not, but hey — you do you. I know someone who made very good money writing paranormal erotic ebooks when Amazon ebooks were booming. But look, you probably want to write what feels right to you. If it doesn’t feel authentic or natural, the writing probably won’t be very good — and the message won’t resonate. I’m aware that others might disagree, but that’s definitely my stance.

Light Magic for Dark Times came out during a boom in mind/body/spirit titles — and while the genre was trendy, it’s never really been not trendy. People are always interested in self-development and magic and personal power. Not to mention, it gave me a chance to create something new in the genre. I am in love with it.

Q: Where can I find information about publishing?

There are some super helpful resources out there (here, here, here, here, and here, for example), including Facebook groups and Twitter accounts dedicated to opportunities and writers supporting writers. Some of my personal favorites include Entropy’s Where to Submit column and Poets & Writers Magazine.

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Lisa Marie Basile is the founder of Luna Luna. She is the author of Light Magic for Dark Times (Quarto, 2018), a modern grimoire of inspired rituals and daily practices. She's also the author of a few poetry collections, including Nympholepsy (Inside the Castle, 2018) and Andalucia. Her work encounters the intersection of ritual and wellness, chronic illness, magic, overcoming trauma, and creativity, and she has written for The New York Times, Narratively, Grimoire Magazine, Sabat Magazine, The Establishment, Refinery 29, Bust, Hello Giggles, and more. Her forthcoming work can be seen in Catapult, the Burn It Down anthology, and Best American Experimental Writing. Lisa Marie earned a Masters degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University.

How To Become A Freelance Writer: On Starting Out, Discipline & Ritual

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Welcome to another installment of Lisa Marie Basile’s column Wild Words, an everyday, accessible, friendly series of how-tos around publishing, writing, and creating. It’s a response to the many inbox queries we get around writing (a lot of our readers come here for the literature, and also want to write!). There is no way these entries can be totally comprehensive, but it’s aimed to provide a general overview of any given topic. Feel free to leave questions (and additional advice!) in the comments below or tweet us at @lunalunamag.

I have been a full-time freelancer twice in my life: Once, by sheer goddamn necessity (no one would hire me; I was out of graduate school loaded with debt and was somehow either “over-qualified” or “under-qualified” at the same time) and right now, by choice. I’m freelancing these days because my chronic illness was getting out of hand, and my last job had me falling into a deep existential abyss. I swear I’m not being dramatic. Okay — maybe a little.

But in all honestly, freelancing has helped me make time for my health and wellness, keep doctor’s appointments, and explore my own projects with greater focus (since I don’t commute). On the other hand, balancing the finances — and not getting insurance through work or a steady paycheck — are the trickier elements. All said and done, I’m privileged to have the opportunity to do this, and I realize everyone’s situation is different and complex.

Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of writing for The New York Times, Healthline, Chakrubs, Good Housekeeping, The Establishment, HelloGiggles, Bust, Bustle, Sabat, The Vitamin Shoppe, So Yummy, Greatist, Byrdie, The Fix, Refinery29, Cosmo, and so many more. I’ve also edited essays and content for Hearst Digital Media and The Vitamin Shoppe and I’ve worked as the content director at a content marketing agency, among other roles.

So, my friends — here’s what I’ve learned from diving head-first into the full-time freelance lifestyle. There’s no way this covers everything, but it’s a start. Feel free to tweet me or Luna Luna or leave a comment below if you have additional tips and tricks you want to share with our readers!

Prep before making the leap into freelance.

Before jumping head-first into full-time freelance (or freelancing while also working) prepping ahead is super important.  Anticipating a challenge means you’ll be less likely to freak out, give up, and then wonder why you’re not good enough to pull off the freelance life. Hint: you are totally good enough — capitalism is hard!

Some pre-freelance prep steps are way harder than others (like, managing your finances), so just be aware of that coming into this way of life.

• Save some of your money, if possible. If you want to quit your job and start freelancing, it’s probably wise to save what you can while you’re still working so you have a cushion. Not everyone has family to lean on, a nest egg or a supportive spouse. This isn’t possible for everyone (and it wasn’t for me), and that’s where things get tricky if you don’t have a few gigs or leads lined up when you make the leap. One of the things that happens when you become a freelancer is that your pay will be all over the place. Some clients pay 90 days after you invoice while others pay right away. A steady paycheck is (sadly) not the norm, but you can ask each of your clients if they would be willing to modify their pay system so that your paycheck comes more regularly (or before rent is due, for example). More often than not they will not do this, so it’s wise to diversify your assignments so you always have a steady stream of money coming in. This by far has been the hardest element for me to deal with.

• Start applying for freelance gigs while you work; this is like collecting acorns for your eventual departure. You do not want to find yourself stranded in the freelance sea without a clue as to where the shore is. Make connections, put your feelers out there, and make long lists of specific editors, marketplaces (websites or magazines), or other gigs before making the leap.

• Get an author website and blog. If you are starting completely out of nowhere (without ‘clips’ or sample work), you’ll want to make sure you have something to show for yourself. A good idea would be to start a website with a blog page. Make sure your site is neat, clean, well-organized and well-written. No wonky fonts or colors. Clean is better so that everyone can view it on any device. You should include a page with a short bio, a page with links to any previous work, and a page with some details about what services you offer.
  
  Here’s mine, and here are some other examples. I love Squarespace (which Luna Luna happily uses!) for website design and blogging; they offer affordable options, well-designed themes, multiple interactive options, and a chicness that goes a long way. Weebly is also really nice for drag-and-drop (read: simple) design.
  
  Your blog (which is a page on your website) should be focused on a few topics that fully emphasize your interests and abilities. For example, you might start a blog about nutrition, fitness, and meditation. You would then be a ‘wellness’ writer with a few focuses. If you have nothing published (but need to show clips to potential editors when applying for gigs) you should write a few really good articles for your blog — ones that underscore your focuses as a writer. Use your voice. Tackle a longer topic and shorter ones, too. Show range.

First, calculate what you need to earn.

Money stuff is going to differ for everyone, and this is also going to be the part where you need to figure out your priorities. For me, it’s rent, health care, travel, and food. Everything else is second-tier, and thus not figured into my basic ‘needs’. Your financial priorities may be different. (Here’s a calculator).

Find anchor clients.

When you’ve figured out how much you need to live more or less ‘comfortably’ you’ll want to start searching for anchor gigs. Anchor clients are your bedrock; they provide the bulk of your earnings. I have two anchor clients — a media company and a doctor’s office for which I blog. They either pay me a set amount per month — an amount I can rely on to pay the bulk of my bills — or they provide steady, reliable work I can count on.

My other income sources come from a handful of not-so-steady freelance clients or one-off assignments. You should absolutely look for one-off gigs or less reliable gigs that can help you fill any income gaps. I am also always looking for anchor clients if I have the time to devote to them; the more work, the more security.

A word of warning: Once you get more established, make sure you say no to what doesn’t serve you. Think about your rate per piece; is it too low for the output? Don’t burn out. Be picky when and if you can afford to be. There will be times when you must say no to a gig, and times when you, well, need to take the work. This is the wild and wacky world of freelance, darlings!

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I wonder if they have the memories we do: sleepwake, working on our tans, ribbons of flesh twirling, long isabelline bus rides of dusk, necks of tulle, promises made on hands and knees, wet grass, actual heartache or actual love. Or the likeness of love, the shadow aspect. O, a medley of skin trying to find an answer. ~ A new poem in the beautiful @ephemerereview 🌾

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The start might be rocky, but your experience will grow and evolve.

It sounds like a cliche — and it’s not always true — but sometimes we have to start from the proverbial bottom. I definitely did. For one, it’s hard to get high-paying gigs without experience. Two, it’s hard to get any experience without experience — which is a catch 22, I know.

For a long time, I couldn’t get paying gigs, so I started out writing for local blogs and friends’ blogs for free. Soon after, I started writing for content mill sites like Demand Media and ehow.com, along with media companies that needed daily write-ups for a handful of niche blogs.

I started out earning about $5-$10 per article or per hour. I wrote about celebrity cookbooks or toaster ovens or funeral home services or about how to plan a kid’s themed birthday party. Basically, if someone handed me money, I’d write about almost anything.

I slowly grew in the earnings area. The gigs were not glamourous, but they helped me pay the bills. Some people might say certain rates are an abomination; others may find lower rates normal for a new writer — it all depends on where you live, your living costs, and the kind of writing you do. It’s also in no way cool to shame people for the pay rates they accept.

I got most of my gigs by surfing Craigslist (which is less helpful these days) or connecting with writers, editors, and friends who worked in media. I’d also send emails out to everyone I knew to see if they knew someone who might need help. Today, gigs can be found through great Facebook groups like Binders or through places like Contently, MediaBistro, Ed2020, and LinkedIn.

Today, I command much more money per article (or per word), but I still sometimes write for free (like this very article!) or for below-industry-standard rates. These are the sorts personal choices I make because I either love the client or the experience is really important to me. You’ll probably have to navigate these situations as a freelancer as well.

It’s not always fair to work for free, but it can help you get a few clips together for a portfolio. Now, it’s not always worth your time, energy, or effort to write for cheap, either— especially, if like me, you have a chronic illness or familial demands to manage. That said, where and how you spend your energy is up to you, and will continue to evolve as you grow in your freelancing life. The more you freelance, the more negotiation prowess you earn. Sometimes, in my experience, the less glamorous gigs lead to more opportunities in the future. For example, I’ve worked on Luna Luna for five years — unpaid — and it’s helped me secure plenty of opportunities. I don’t recommend that for everyone, but it’s one thing I do at night and over weekends (when I have the time) that has helped tremendously. (See: Get Creative below for more).

That said, no matter where you are in your freelance career, I firmly believe in the “asking for more is harmless” approach. Ask politely for the rate you want. Ask for the rate to be reconsidered if what’s being offered is too low. Know your worth; you may not have much experience but you may know that you are a damn good writer. This is worth fighting for!

I don’t use a ‘rate card’ (a card with my rates for specific projects) for this reason; my rate changes per client and per project. However, going in with a ballpark helps. My tip: Check the very helpful Writer’s Market for industry standards.

The bottom line: Be flexible. Be understanding of a company’s budget restrictions. Be willing to grow from where you are. All while advocating for your worth.

You’ll likely need to do an edit test when applying for gigs.

Most editors will want you to do an audition article when you apply to be a regular writer. For most of my edit tests, I’ve been asked to write a short article and include about a dozen potential pitches specific to the site. This helps the editor understand where you’ve got the site’s tone, voice, and niche down. For one-off articles, though, you don’t need to do an audition in most cases.

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Winter days as a freelancer: on deadline, writing writing writing, listening to ASMR, drinking too much coffee, yearning to just get back into bed to read this book, which I’ve been reading and rereading and taking notes from for a year. It’s amazing how much little bits of folk magic (all blended into Catholicism, of course) I can remember witnessing when I was younger. My grandmother often wrote wishes and intentions on scrolls of paper and placed them on an elaborate altar, something I do today. 👁

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Know your worth.

Depending on your experience level, education (I’ve found this matters way, way less; most clients want skilled writers with some experience, versus education), and other variables, you can position yourself as an authority on certain topics. Always advocate for yourself, and know that asking is the key to getting.

On top of self-advocacy, it’s key that you help others, too. Give people job connections when you can, and share what you’ve learned, too. Generosity begets generosity, and it creates a good foundation for your work and life.

Find your passion (and also what you can tolerate writing about).

I write largely about wellness and chronic illness, intentional living, creativity and literature, and trauma recovery. Those are my umbrella categories, so I try to focus on those in most of my work. This has sort of ‘branded’ me as a writer, making me more visible to certain editors or publications.

On the other hand, if I need to write about other topics for pay (which we all do), I’ve also secondarily done work in other areas. Be flexible!

Figure out who you want to write for and contact them.

Make a list of websites and magazines that you would like to write for, and start setting intentions to write for those markets.

You can usually find the masthead on any website or in any magazine, which will often lead you to an editor’s name and contact information. If you can’t find the contact info, google their name or use a Facebook group for freelancers to see if anyone has the information. You can also look for the editor on social media and ask them politely for their contact info.

You can build all of this information in an Excel or Spreadsheet file. The columns might be, “Publication,” “Editor name,” “Editor contact,” “topic or vertical,” “pitch ideas,” and “link” (which should link to their hiring information or anything that you might help you remember what they do or what they are looking for).

Smaller magazines tend to have smaller staffs; I find these folks easier to reach. Larger or more established publications tend to be way busier. Often, I don’t even get a response. It might be smart to reach out to an assistant editor or associate editor (or a section editor) rather than someone higher up on the masthead.

Your emails should be short and sweet. Introduce yourself, share your pitch or ideas (put ‘Timely’ in the subject line if it is timely), ask if they’re seeking regular writers, and include your credentials and contact information. Be voice-y, be authentic, and be convincing.

Heed this warning: Don’t ramble; an editor will glance at your email for maybe 10 seconds before they decide it’s right for them.

Follow up if the editor doesn’t respond. Always follow up. Never — and I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but hey, who knows — insult or abuse the editor if they fail to follow up. Editors are busy, and your email simply may not be of interest. In a perfect world, we’d all get responses. Hint: The world isn’t perfect.

Maximize the types of work you do.

You don’t have to limit yourself to websites and magazines. You can get creative — you can write and sell e-books , you can pitch pieces to printed anthologies, or you can pitch your services to a small company. My gigs have run the gamut: I’ve written for print magazines and for websites, but I’ve also written perfume descriptions and product names for Valentino, “About” copy for small businesses, and edited poetry for an anthology.

Hey, I’m about to start writing obituaries!

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🧡 I published a story today to @lunalunamag: How to Become a Freelance Writer: On Starting Out, Discipline & Ritual. . These pictures capture my environment and some of the things that keep inspired and mindful as I write all day. I like to use this selenite ball to recalibrate and recharge, plants help me focus and ground me when I’ve been detached and working all day, and then there are books & coffee & cats for work breaks. 🧡 PS: I took this picture prior to getting a 2nd degree burn on this arm today after a French press exploded all over me, so enjoy my not-red skin.

A post shared by 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖊 (@lisamariebasile) on Jan 23, 2019 at 11:10am PST

Create a productive and inspiring writing environment.

One of the most important things I do is make my space cozy, comfortable and aesthetically beautiful. I try to surround myself with things that make me happy and comfortable so that I don’t feel the need to clean or reorganize or pretty things up. (Writers get distracted easily).

If I’m working from home, I’ll have my tea ready to go, I’ll keep power items near me (like crystals and plants) and I’ll keep the lighting cozy and bright, but not not harsh. I love salt lamps for a magical, glowy touch.

Build ritual into your freelance life.

I spend most of my freelance days writing, pitching ideas to editors, building articles into content systems, researching, working on my own projects, and editing. Because successfully working from home is largely very dependent on your own discipline, ritual is deeply necessary.

I never used to give myself a chance to rest or recalibrate during the word day, so my early writing was sloppy, grammatically imperfect, and my voice was messy. Today, I have a much firmer grasp on both my writing and my freelance habits — and that’s because I integrate ritual and intentionality into my work days.

Some easy ritual ideas include:

• Make a morning routine that gets your blood flowing, and your mind settled and clear. Pull a tarot card and meditate on it, do some yoga, light a candle and clear your mind while you drink your coffee, or simply deep breath before heading to your computer. I like to make coffee, watch some ASMR videos on YouTube while I stretch, and then make sure my surrounding are conducive to productivity. I light a candle, put some stones and crystals out, and get myself a tall glass of water.

• Take breaks to stretch, breath and recalibrate. Your work — and your health — WILL suffer if you don’t step away sometimes. I often do my best work after a break.

• Create peace and joy in your surroundings. Make everything conducive to your needs, both logistically and aesthetically. Neat and tidy areas are better for me, and plants and natural light help me feel good. When I didn’t have this in my earlier years of living in messy houses with loads of loud roommates, I’d find a local cafe with wi-fi and get to work.

• Use sound. I use the Calm app (this is a paid version but there are loads of cheap or free ones — as well as YouTube videos) to listen to stories or soundscapes during my break. It helps me delineate my work - brain from my rest - brain.

• You can find more rituals at my account for Light Magic here.

Get organized.

Stay organized, and get ahead of your distractions. I use several organizational and productivity tools, and I suggest you either try these or research similar ones that sync up with your needs. Seriously.

• Google Docs to save all my work

• bill.com to send invoices

• The “Reminders” app on my computer to outline my assignments and due dates

• Trello is a tool that helps you track your projects, make lists, and monitor your progress.

• I use Noisli 2.0, which helps me improve my focus and productivity using ambient noise. I use the white noises to make me focus when noises are distracting. I also use a free app called “Sound,” which has an amazingly soothing “brown noise” that has been helping me focus (and nap) a lot lately.

• I use the Pomodoro technique when I really can’t focus. (Some of us have ADD or ADHD). This technique emphasizes bursts of work in 25-minute increments, and I’ve found it super helpful. You can adjust the Pomodoro as per your needs.

• And because I’m good at guilt (thanks, former Catholic background), I use Panda Focus, which pops up my to-do list whenever I open a browser. Yeah, I know.

Learn how to research & find accurate information.

It’s so important to learn how to incorporate research into your work. Even if you don’t write research-heavy work, simply knowing where to turn for solid information can help. I use official, expert-approved sites when I need ‘accurate’ information, rather than blogs, for example.

Some great sites include Help A Reporter Out, Journalist’s Toolbox, and this list of credible sources. 

Understand the difference between a pitch and an assignment.

When you’re freelancing, you’ll want to be pitching ideas to editors (this might include a cold pitch to an editor you don’t know, or pitching to editors you already work with) in addition to receiving assignments from people who have hired you as a remote writer. Never just assume you’ll ‘get’ as assignment. While many pitches are rejected, it’s an important part of the freelance life.

I pitch out about 5-10 stories a week to a mix of publications I either write for or want to write for. Other times, editors who have brought me on as a regular freelancer will email me throughout the week with assignments. For other clients, I do X articles per month at a set rate. It’s all over the place — so be flexible and make room for all sorts of relationships!

Learn more about pitching here: Wild Words: How To Get Published & Feel Good About Your Work

Get social.

Although it may seem arduous or complicated or even inauthentic, it really helps to be active on social media. I’m sorry to say it, because I know some people equate it with the social apocalypse (and I don’t blame you!). I was confused when I started using Twitter; what’s the point? Who cares what I say? As I learned to use it over the years, it’s been really rewarding. I use it to engage with other writers and editors, I share my work, and I share others’ work.

Having a landing page — like Instagram or Twitter — full of thoughts and ideas and images, showcases your personality, your aesthetic, and your voice, and it lets editors know what they can expect from you.

In my many years on social media, I’ve gotten dozens of gigs. I even scored a book deal for Light Magic for Dark Times by being on Twitter (yep — my editor discovered my (unpaid) work on Twitter, read it, loved it, and asked if I wanted to write a book). Now, book deals may not happen to everyone, but the lesson here is this: Being visible does wonders for your freelance work.

Confused on where to start? Find some of your favorite writers and editors on Twitter and see how they use the platform. You can always follow me on Instagram, on Twitter, and on Facebook! PS: Luna Luna’s FB group The Luminous is a treasure trove when it comes to connecting with freelancers and bouncing ideas around.

You’ll also want portfolio, which is a place you can store images of print articles or links to digital work. I use Contently, but a lot of people I know also use Muckrack.

Don’t be afraid to reach out.

Never think you’re too green, too unknown, or too inexperienced to reach out to an editor; editors want your pitches. If you have a good idea, send it along. (My only suggestion here: Make sure they haven’t published the piece already!).

The only way to go wrong is to reach out without politeness or with an air of entitlement. A little humility, kindness, and willingness to converse goes a long way. You can start by connecting with me on LinkedIn!

Get creative.

Most people aren’t going to land a 3000-word glossy magazine print piece right off the bat (but who knows, right?). Because of this, it’s smart to think outside the box a little: Go to writing conferences and meet people, design unique business cards that get people excited about you, reach out to your local gym to see if they need bloggers or copywriters, or ask your college alumni magazine if they need writers. I started Luna Luna (which is about as niche as it gets) — and that did wonders for my career! You never know who needs help or who is looking, so never underestimate the opportunities that are out there if you get creative.

Constantly learn and grow your skillset.

In the beginning, I had no clue about a lot of things — SEO, photoshop, certain content management systems. I was green, as they say. And guess what? I totally got by. Gig by gig I was required to learn certain skills — and I did. I’d often rent a book or watch a YouTube tutorial if I needed to learn something, like how to use WordPress or Google Keywords. If I needed to learn how to fill out a w9 on my computer (since I didn’t have a printer or scanner), I’d watch tutorials. The list goes on and on. All the info is at your fingertips — and if it’s not, join a Facebook group for freelancers and ask. Don’t expect anyone to hold your hand, but be ready and willing to ask for help when you need it.

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Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine—a digital diary of literature, magical living and idea. She is the author of "Light Magic for Dark Times," a modern collection of inspired rituals and daily practices. She's also the author of a few poetry collections, including 2018's "Nympholepsy." Her work encounters the intersection of ritual, wellness, chronic illness, overcoming trauma, and creativity, and she has written for The New York Times, Narratively, Sabat Magazine, Healthline, The Establishment, Refinery 29, Bust, Hello Giggles, and more. Her work can be seen in Best Small Fictions, Best American Experimental Writing, and several other anthologies. Lisa Marie earned a Masters degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University.

How to Get Published & Promote Your Work

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Wild Words is an everyday, accessible, friendly series of how-tos around publishing, writing, and creating. It’s a response to the many inbox queries we get around writing (a lot of our readers come here for the literature, and also want to write!). There is no way these entries can be totally comprehensive, but it’s aimed to provide a general overview of any given topic. Feel free to leave questions (and additional advice!) in the comments below or tweet us at @lunalunamag.

Whether you’re looking to publish poetry, an essay, a researched piece, or a book, here are some of my responses to the questions I’m asked all the time. I hope it helps!

You are already a writer.

One of the things I hear the most is, "I'm not, like, a real writer yet, but I'd like to be. I don’t have anything published.”

Quiet that voice because—and may I be struck by lightning if I am wrong here—yes, yes you are a writer. If you write, you're a writer. That might sound like a platitude, but since when does publication provide our identity. Scribes were writing thousands of years before the printing press. I’m certain Thoth and Seshat never needed a book deal to feel valid — but I disgress.

The same goes for writers. There's this all-too-common myth that a writer isn't initiated into the dark mansion of writerly glory until published (see mantras like "publish or perish" or even well-meaning terms like "emerging writer"). You can very much be a writer without publishing credit. To be a writer is to live as a writer, not to work as one.

Step one: Get out of your head. Save your head for the page. Your art comes first; everything else is secondary. Being a writer is less important than writing. So, just write and the rest will come into place.

Now, there's a caveat to all that.

Writing is not always glamorous; you have to put in the work.

Writing is often said to be lonely. It's not just an over-romanticization of the archetype of the writer (as we fall upon the chaise, in solitude, our poems clamouring in our chests), it's a fact. It’s necessarily lonely in many ways. We’re alone at home, sitting in a dressing gown, downing coffee, assembling words through feeling and memory. We tend to alchemize best when alone.

Then, when we’re done with the work, we may choose to share it with the world. Publishing is made up of all the unglamorous, sometimes uncomfortable aspects art we don't want to think about: Formatting a manuscript, submitting to magazines and journals, getting declined, updating your "accepted" and "declined" excel sheets. It's all very Virgo. Add the admin work to the loneliness, and it can all feel quite daunting.

But the process itself can be beautiful. Through all of that, something is born — and that is extremely transformative. You just have to show up to it, no matter what you intend to do with what you conjure and write down, earth-side.

There are a sea of opportunities out there; finding them is your job.

So how do you find journals or magazines? To start, social media is a wonderful resource. You can start by searching 'literary journal' or 'poetry magazine’ on Twitter or Instagram’s search bar. Then, read the journal. Yep, actually read it.

• Does the work resonate with you?

• Does the journal's niche work well with your voice? 

• Does the journal stand for what you believe in?

• Do they take risks on style and genre?

• Is the website legible and clean? Is the font in alignment with your work? (There’s nothing worse than a beautiful poem being destroyed by an ugly font).

• If it’s a print journal, how does it look on the page?

• Do they make a point to welcome diverse writers?

Next, make lists of writers you admire.

• Who are they? What do they write? Is it ‘similar to what you write?

• Where have they published? You can see this by looking at their bios or Googling their names. Most published works come with a biography of the writer.

• Are they recommending certain journals via their social media or blog?

Another easy way to find literary journals is by perusing your local bookshop; most indie stores have a dedicated literary magazine section. One of my favorite resources for literary journals (in this case, most are English-speaking ones) is at Entropy Magazine. They do an amazing service to writers by finding open submissions and separating them into journals, presses, and genres.

Facebook has some great groups, as well. Search "poetry writers" or "fiction writers" or "memoir writers" under groups and see what comes up.

Engage with other writers, read their work, and ask for recommendations to literary journals.

13 AESTHETICALLY BEAUTIFUL LITERARY JOURNALS TO SUBMIT TO & READ

The beautiful thing about the Internet is that you have at your disposal hundreds of literary journals and magazines—as well as their "submit" or "contact" information. This info will list what they’re looking for and how to send it to them.

Follow the rules. Don't attach a whole book, for example, if they ask for three poems only. Seriously. This inspires ire and bloodlust in some editors. Now, no one is waiting around for you to make a mistake, and you don’t have to stay awake at night quaking in your sheets over understandable errors that happen, but do read the submissions policy and adhere to it in the most basic of ways.

Make lists of journals or magazines or presses that you like, take note of their publication schedules, and get your work ready. Send your favorite pieces to your favorite journals. Then, you wait. This is the sexy part (not true).

What is a pitch?

If you're trying to submit your writing to magazines (especially nonfiction or essays), you'll want to know there are usually two ways to go about this: You can pitch (aka send a clear idea) an editor directly (you can find emails for editors on social media or by going onto LinkedIn) and then wait for confirmation and the assignment, or you can write a whole piece and send it to a magazine via whatever their submissions policy says.

The latter is risky for one reason: You run the risk of writing and writing without it having a home. That said, you should be writing about what you want to write about—so even if it's rejected, you can return to the drawing board and send it elsewhere.

Pitching editors seems scary, right? This is probably the question I'm asked most often: Should I pitch an editor? Will they ignore me if I've never published before? Why would they want to hear from me? Am I good enough?

Firstly, yes. You’re good enough. Secondly, many editors are super busy and many pitches don't get responses (it’s a limited bandwidth issue; it’s usually not you). Please do not take this personally.

What helps? Writing a succinct, clear, well-developed pitch may yield an acceptance or at least a responsive decline. Editors appreciate pitches because it lets them collaborate with you—to massage an idea into being and to ensure the piece covers the topic in the way they envision.

Pitches should include a well-developed idea, a reason why you're the one who should write the piece (keep this relevant, quick, and professional) and a sentence or two about why it would work for their publication. Here are some excellent tips.

THE IMPORTANCE OF AN AUTHOR WEBSITE AND SOCIAL MEDIA CHANNELS

Many writers loathe the idea of having to step away from the writing desk to maintain a digital persona. I have a love/hate relationship with it. Being online helps me find and build community. However, it can be distracting, narcissistic, and one-dimensional. Striking a balance while enacting healthy boundaries is key — especially as a highly sensitive, in-tune creator (as we all are).

We are, at times, reduced to parts of ourselves online—we are seen in fractions, and this can cause us to feel a disconnect to our main intentions. Then there's the issue of imposter syndrome. When you see all the other writers online being amazing and publishing everywhere and getting retweets, you might wonder: Am I good enough?

There is space for everyone (a glorious truth no troll can take away from you) and that space is what makes writing such a beautiful experience. Everyone starts somewhere. Let the Internet be a place of support and inspiration for you, but don't let it distract from your art. You're a writer; brand is not the main priority. Share ideas and content authentically around a few pillar topics, engage thoughtfully, promote others, and embrace a schedule so that you don’t fall down the rabbit hole.

An author website (with a short bio, a picture, and some contact details) can go a long way. Don't worry about it being sparse at first. Your bio can be "XYZ is a writer from New York City." It's not embarrassing if it’s short; there's no rush to fill it up with details, and there's no competition. Be you, write, and the rest will unfold. You can build websites at Weebly, Squarespace, Wix, and even Tumblr. Luna Luna uses Squarespace and we love it. My personal author website is on Squarespace as well.

self-publishing & vanity presses 101

Ever see those commercials or ads that say, "Publish a book for only $3999.00!"? Yeaaaaah. These services are, well, scammy simply because you could self-publish on your own for very little money (although you will pay for author copies and shipping) through several low-cost self-publishing services like Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing, Cafepress, and Lulus. More on that below.

So what’s the deal with vanity presses (aka vanity publishers, subsidy publishers or hybrid publishers)? These are presses that typically ask writers (and in some cases agents) to subsidize a portion or all of the funds that it takes to put a book into the world. Some are straight-up shams designed to fuck people over and prey on a lack of knowledge, while others are working presses that are very transparent about their fees. Here’s a very basic look at the variants within the hybrid publishing model.

There have been plenty of debates around whether this publishing model is okay or not, and lots of wonderful writers have worked with vanity presses before; others maintain that it’s not for them and that your press should foot your bill.

Generally speaking, most established magazines or presses will publish your work for free. Most authors don’t pay their publishing companies to publish their work. Whether or not you get royalties or an advance is entirely dependent on the press.

Back to self-publishing: Poets & Writers offers great information around self-publishing here. The fact is, some writers love the autonomy and creative power they get when publishing their own work. Many writers would prefer not to self-publish, too, and if you put your ear to the ground you'll hear lots of contradictory talk, everything from "self-publishing isn't really publishing," to "Why would I want someone else in control of my manuscript?"

Many writers who are simply experimenting and want to carry a book with them to local readings might want to self-publish. Maybe they want sell their work on Amazon directly or on Etsy. Many writers may feel disenfranchised by the publishing scene. Many might just like the process of creating their own work.

There is still very much a stigma around self-publishing, but it's important to stay progressive when it comes to art. People should feel empowered to create however they'd prefer. Not to mention, people have self-published for years. It's a hard world out there for writers, and no one needs to be shamed for their choice. That said, it's important to weigh the options.

No matter what—self-published or not—the post-publication stage is key: You’ll want to share your work.

how to promote your published work

Promotion doesn’t come naturally for many writers. Whether it’s a general distaste for capitalism, a tendency toward introversion, fear of rejection, or a fear of seeming obnoxious, promotion can be tricky — and surprisingly emotional.

If you want your book to reach people, you’ll have to promote it. Remember that many presses have either very limited budgets or limited bandwidth. This means you'll be expected to reach out to reviewers, drum up public conversation around your work, and do a lot of the leg work when it comes to promotion.

Here's the cold hard truth: No one will read your work if you don't advocate for it from conception and execution to submission and promotion. Period.

So how do you go about getting people to read your work?

• Promote your work, and everyone else's, too. You can’t just drop one link to your poem one time and expect engagement. Be active, thoughtful, and mindful.

• Start a newsletter and send out updates on your work. Even if only 20 people are subscribed, ask them to share with others. Word of mouth is powerful.

• Take part in conversations around writing online. Join groups or jump in on Twitter conversations.

• Create graphics that promote your book or highlight a few lines of poetry. I create all my graphics with Canva.

• Read your work on Instagram live. Invite others to join the Live and read their work, too.

• Go to literary readings if you can access them. Meet people IRL. Create your own literary reading and host it in person or on Zoom.

• Create a new space. Write a blog. Fill a gap in conversation. Be the representation you’re seeking. Start a lit journal.

• Be human; people read humans. There's no greater secret to this.

…but privilege is a thing, right?

Sometimes writers have it hard. They might work stressful, full-time jobs or lack finances; they raise families, they have chronic health conditions, or they are disenfranchised in ways you or I can't imagine. Many are systemically silenced or excluded by sexism and rampant, deep-seated racism. Others can't attend fancy writing workshops usually and sometimes they can't even access conferences due to the fact that spaces are straight-up inaccessible to disabled writers.

Recognizing your privilege is a necessity. This is why it's important to help other writers succeed; you never know their situation, and you never know what they've gone through to get where they are. Open doors for people.

Now, onto questions from our readers:

"How do I quite the voice that tells me I'm a shitty writer?"

That voice is like the sea. It is natural. It ebbs and flows, it pulls in and crashes to shore, and it pulls back. It intersects with our culture, use of social media, how we were raised, our mental health, our social life, and our internalized responses. That’s heavy, so don’t think you’re alone in this. That voice is an albatross to many.

Sometimes it's a deep blue, high tide, sometimes it's low, low enough for you to see your feet down there on the sand through the turquoise. This is what it means to write. There are days when you don't want to, don't feel the need to, don't feel like it means anything. When you doubt your ability or purpose.

Why write when others are already so talented? Why am I not as good? Why does this suck?

The sea often yields surprises. What happens when one day the waves don't stop? Will you ignore it? Will you say it's too overwhelming—or will you say it's necessary and beautiful?

Very few writers truly think they are god's gift to humankind; sure, there's ego out there, but it's usually driven by insecurity. Even the best feel it. It's chronic, and can be seriously limiting. However, you have to push past it. Turn the insecurity into fuel. Acknowledge it and let it pass.

You have to know that your relationship to your work (and your personal, very real reason for creating it) is more important than your mood on any given day, more important than what other people are doing, and more important than the ego. Write because you feel the need to, and trust, as you edit and develop it, that it is a thing of beauty. From there, decide whether you want to share it with the world.

The idea of something being shitty is usually predicated on ideas around how it will be received; so, write it for you, and you alone. The voice will happen. Just move through it. And don't beat yourself up for the sea change. Your voice will be there, and then go, and then come—what you choose to do, despite it, is what matters. Choose your work. It deserves love.

When your work is done, celebrate it. Get a drink, print it, decorate a little altar to it, and light a candle for your success. Focus on manifesting that spirit and resilience in your future projects. Grow your garden slowly, and with love—for all the darkness and light that comes with it.

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Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine—a digital diary of literature, magical living and idea. She is the author of "Light Magic for Dark Times," a modern grimoire of inspired rituals and daily practices. She's also the author of a few poetry collections, including the forthcoming "Nympholepsy." Her work encounters the intersection of ritual and wellness, chronic illness, magic, overcoming trauma, and creativity, and she has written for The New York Times, Narratively, Grimoire Magazine, Sabat Magazine, The Establishment, Refinery 29, Bust, Hello Giggles, and more. Lisa Marie earned a Masters degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University.