6 Tips for Jumpstarting a Stalled Writing Career
When I was in my 30s, literary success felt close. My stories were appearing regularly in literary journals and winning awards. One story was produced by Stories on Stage and broadcast on NPR. I had an agent I adored. My first novel had been accepted for publication by a hot indie New York press, and of course it would be a world-changer, destined for both the bestseller list and the literary canon. I was soaring down the highway to literary triumph.
(How I Stopped Sabotaging My Writing Goals.)
Then, everything drifted to a stop. My novel Scorch, released in 2001, did not change the world. My agent left agenting. And over the next 10 years, I managed to place only two stories. I wrote a rockin’ middle-grade novel and secured another agent, but she couldn’t sell it. I wrote a cool, creepy YA novel, but the agent didn’t like it, and she dumped me. I have a vivid memory of sitting at my dining room table in late summer of 2010, sobbing, knowing I’d missed it: I wasn’t going to have the life of a writer after all. It was all I’d ever wanted. I’d made so many sacrifices for it.
Now, in 2023, I am finally launching a second novel, Down the Steep, published by Regal House. Once again I’m regularly placing stories in literary journals, including TriQuarterly, Willow Springs, Chicago Quarterly Review, and many others. One of my stories recently received a special mention in Best American Short Stories and the Pushcart Prize anthology. I don’t have an agent, but I’m succeeding without one. Granted, I’m no longer racing down any highways to literary stardom, but I have successfully restarted my stalled career, and I’m happy again—in fact, I’m happier than before, because now my expectations are reasonable.
Before I share how I managed to jumpstart my career, you need to know this: If you’re feeling stranded on the roadside in a publication desert, you’re not alone. The stalled writing career is a real phenomenon, with real causes. The explosion of Creative Writing MFA programs over the past few decades has increased competition.
At the same time, the New York publishing industry has been contracting, its unregulated mergers and focus on share-holder profits reducing opportunities for authors who aren’t already some form of celebrity. The industry’s emphasis on debut novels practically guarantees stalled careers: It’s even harder now to publish your second novel than your first, as there are sales numbers to scrutinize, and marketing teams must be persuaded. All of these realities are bad news for stalled authors.
Yet, as I’ve discovered, it is possible to restart a career. Below are my six tips for you, based on what worked for me.
1: Accept reality and learn to be humble.
I was an embarrassingly arrogant young writer. Swallowing my pride has been a multi-year endeavor, with many choking fits along the way. But clinging to one’s adolescent delusions isn’t healthy, nor is narcissistic personality disorder.
The reality is there are millions of people like us in the world—talented writers. We aren’t special. We are grains of sand on a wide beach. Maybe we’re exceptionally talented, wildly ambitious, frighteningly hard working. That still doesn’t mean we’re better or more important than other people. Everyone has a particular talent in one thing or another. The world doesn’t owe us accolades.
Realizing you’re an ordinary person is quite freeing. When you don’t take yourself too seriously, it’s easier to laugh at yourself, and laughing is far better for your mental health than feeling aggrieved. Cultivating this humility is key, because without it, none of what follows will work.
2. Go where other writers are and make friends, not contacts.
Maybe you already have a writing group or a few buddies who write. That’s great—go find more. Apply to selective conferences such as the Sewanee Writers Conference, Tin House, and the Key West Literary Seminar. Attend national and regional writing conferences such as the Writer’s Digest Conference, AWP, and Midwest Writers Workshop. You’ll find these venues packed with fresh-faced striving writers who are decades younger than we jump-starters, so be ready to pride-swallow and embrace that humility.
One reason to attend conferences is, obviously, to learn more about craft and the publishing industry. But equally important is to seek out potential friends. By this I mean genuine friends—not connections or contacts, not new newsletter subscribers or Instagram followers. The goal is to forge friendships based on mutual respect of each other’s work and a desire to help one another succeed. These relationships are not transactional.
Be assured: It is possible to make friends at conferences, even if you’re introverted, socially awkward, anxious, or depressive. I’m all four, but somehow I managed to befriend the charismatic short story author Louise Marburg at Sewanee in 2013. I also miraculously made friends with Carrie Muehle, the brilliant fiction editor of TriQuarterly in 2015, when I randomly sat beside her on a flight home from AWP. These two people have played a major role in my career jumpstart by sharing information and advice, offering encouragement, and providing sanity-saving help.
Check out A.D. Nauman’s Down the Steep here:
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3. Be willing to spend money, albeit cautiously.
Gaining access to these conferences does, unfortunately, cost money. I know this isn’t fair: It privileges people with capital. Although you can think of these expenditures as an investment, they’re unlikely to pay off in dollars. However, if your goal is to restart your career, frugality won’t help.
That said, you do need to be careful of entities promising too much and charging for it. Over the years I’ve seen the rise of what can only be called the Creative Writing Industrial Complex: multitudes of writing coaches, coaches who train coaches, “thought leaders” who’ll get your book on the bestseller list. A degree of cynicism is warranted.
Please know that agents should not be charging you for representation. Also, know that, though self-publishing is always an option, it doesn’t seem to reliably move the needle in reigniting a once-promising career. So what’s worth the money?
Look for conferences, courses, and workshops offered through reputable institutions. A game-changer for me has been StoryStudio in Chicago. In 2018, I began taking year-long courses there with Abby Geni and Rebecca Makkai. The classes were pricey for me, but I learned so much about craft and the publishing industry under the tutelage of these amazing authors.
4. Maintain your writing friendships and communities.
Although time is another notoriously limited resource in our culture, you’ll need to find some to sustain your writing communities. Schedule regular dates with writing friends. Zoom is helpful–it eliminates commute time and allows you to connect with far-away friends.
I meet with my Los Angeles friend Laurel DiGangi, a creative nonfiction writer, to share ideas and, when necessary, commiserate. We help each other cope with rejections by writing snarky responses to the rejecters and emailing them to each other instead. I’m in a two-person book club with my Missouri friend Mark Spann, a children’s book author. Together we read and discuss popular craft books.
We should acknowledge that maintaining friendships with other writers isn’t easy. One friend will inevitably be “ahead” in number of publications, the other “behind.” I’ve been in both spots. When you’re “ahead,” it’s imperative to avoid condescension. Your friend who is “behind” is likely just as committed to their writing as you are, and you don’t necessarily know more about writing than they do.
And when you’re “behind,” remember that your friend who’s “ahead” is still wracked with self-doubt and feeling vulnerable—what if bunches of people say mean things about her new novel? In other words, whether your ego is bruised or inflated, box it up and consider how your friend feels. You may need to keep reminding yourself of this, as I do.
5. Don’t stop submitting.
Rejections sting, and they don’t let up. It’s horrible. Your subconscious may hit upon this clever strategy: The rejections will stop if you quit submitting. Not surprisingly, this is a bad idea—it’s one of the main causes of stalled careers. The more time that passes without a publication, the more demoralized you feel.
Remember that finding an agent or editor who appreciates your work is kind of like finding a romantic partner—it takes a lot of swipes. There are editors out there who will “get” you; you have only to keep looking. Judgment of creative work is wildly subjective—emphasis on “wildly.”
My friend Louise, whom I mentioned earlier, is especially good at blanketing the world with submissions, and she’s published three short story collections in five years. So tell yourself you are made of steel, and hit submit.
6. Keep growing yourself as a writer.
This list of tips begins and ends with work on self. You need humility to put yourself out there, and you need it to keep learning. There is always more to discover about craft. Equally important is continuing to clarify your identity as a writer. What do you write about? Why? Where do you fit into the vast scheme of authors? How does what you write contribute to the world of books and stories? Skill honing and self-reflection are lifelong projects.
I began writing my current novel, Down the Steep, during the Obama administration, ironically because I sensed an undercurrent of racism bubbling up under our cultural surface. Down the Steep is set during the Civil Rights era in southeast Virginia, and the protagonist is the daughter of a Klansman who learns to overcome her racism. When I started to write it, Louise and I were exchanging work once a month—she sent me a story, and I sent her a chapter. At this breakneck speed, I finished the first draft.
Then I revised. I shared it with Mark and other friends and revised some more. I enrolled in Abby Geni’s Novel-in-a-Year class at StoryStudio, received excellent feedback, and revised again. Then I signed up for another year-long class with Abby for another round of feedback.
By early 2020, I was ready to query agents. The pandemic hit, and George Floyd was murdered, and Black Lives Matter protests erupted across the country. You’d think there’d be interest in a novel about overcoming racism, but not one of the 60 agents I queried said yes. I sent Abby a despairing email, and she responded: Do. Not. Give. Up.
Louise suggested Regal House, which had published her second story collection, knowing they read unagented work. And here I am at last, launching my second novel. I don’t expect Down the Steep to change in the world, but I hope it contributes something of value to our national conversation about racism. My reasonable expectations feel wonderful.
It’s easy for stalled writers to become bitter, to feel overly offended by rejections, impatient with those idiotic editors who fail to see the uniqueness of the work. It’s tempting to withdraw from writing communities, eschewing those who appear to be more successful.
It’s hard to do the work needed to restart a sputtering career, but it’s possible. Begin by recognizing you’re one of many, many gifted writers—and that’s not only fine, it’s fun. Find the resources to seek out opportunities and cultivate genuine friendships. Persist. Keep growing your abilities, and feel yourself roll forward.