On August 5th, 2014, my first essay collection Bad Feminist was released. I had no idea how the book would do. I generally assumed few people would buy the collection because all of the essays were previously published. An industrious person could simply find all the essays online, print them out and staple them together. But, that isn’t what happened. Publishing success is about the right book at the right time in the right place and I guess, August 5, 2014 was the nexus of those ideal conditions.
Technically, Bad Feminist was my third book though it was the first book a significant number of people read and the fourth book I wrote. You’ll hear this story often from writers. The first book we publish is not often the first book we actually wrote.
The first two books I wrote around the same time—Ayiti and Difficult Women though it had a different title at the time. I published Ayiti, originally, with a micropress in 2011. The first print run had, maybe, 100 copies though it stayed in print with them for years and was the little book that could. It was exciting to have a physical artifact I could hold. For years, I drove all over the Midwest (because I could not afford to fly) to do readings for very little money and would hand sell the books myself after the event finished. I even got a little Square dongle so I could take credit cards. When people first learn of your work on the proverbial main stage, they assume you just magically appeared there, fully formed. The truth is that most of us write and write and write in relative obscurity and we publish in relative obscurity and we build whatever audiences we have the old-fashioned way—one person at a time, face to face, in whatever literary communities we can find.
I got my first agent with Difficult Woman and she tried, valiantly, to find the book a home. I received many thoughtful rejections but everyone kept telling me no one reads short stories. I needed to write a novel but I didn’t know how to write a novel so I resisted and then I decided I would write like a hundred short stories and smoosh them together. I spent the summer after my first year as a faculty member at Eastern Illinois University writing An Untamed State. It was the best writing time I’ve ever had. I woke up and wrote and wrote and wrote until the wee hours of the morning. I lost myself entirely in the story. I would get cranky when I had to spend time in the real world. It truly was the best time. I would go on to revise that novel twice and it took more than eighteen months and two agents to find a home at Grove Atlantic.
As my second agent, Maria Massie, started shopping An Untamed State, she asked me if I had considered creating a collection of my nonfiction. I had not! But I looked at all of this work I had been publishing online—The Rumpus, Salon, The Guardian, Rookie, HTMLGIANT, and other places, and realized I did have a book. I organized the essays into a framework that felt right, did a little bit of shaping and editing and then I felt as ready as I was going to be to put the book, as a whole into the world. It took only about two weeks for Bad Feminist to sell and it happened right around the same time as my novel, to two different publishers. I received an advance of $12,500 for An Untamed State and $15,000 for Bad Feminist. It was quite eye-opening because I thought book advances were much bigger. HA! HA! HA! (They can be; it’s (not so) complicated.) My agent consoled me, and pointed out that it would be much easier for the books to earn out which, of course, they did. Fortunately, I had a day job so I wasn’t having to figure out how to make a living after paying out my agent (15%) and the government ((30% ish).
What I did have going for me was a very supportive publisher starting with Cal Morgan, who bought the book and recognized its potential, my editor, Maya Ziv, who really understood my ambition for the book and my creative voice. We’re still friends! The copyeditor, Mary Beth Constant, well let me just tell you, if you can ever request a copyeditor request her. Her copyedits were informative, entertaining, and witty. I learned so much just from her edits. I would work with her on anything, at any time. I also had a great publicist, Gregory Henry, assisted by Amanda Pelletier who garnered great press for the book and orchestrated an awesome tour. It all felt so fancy.
People do indeed judge books by their covers and the Bad Feminist cover (and all my subsequent covers at Harper) was designed by Robin Bilardello who created a design I loved—modern, open, and versatile enough to work for multiple books. There were also many other hands that touched this book, that touch all the books you read and enjoy. Writing is a solitary endeavor but publishing is not. (Unsolicited advice: Ask for the names of the people who work on your books! Thank them! I wish I had started doing this sooner than I did.)
And so here we are, ten years later. A whole ass decade. Many of the essays are, sadly, still relevant. We have even lost some ground, particularly where reproductive justice is concerned. I’m always asked what I would change about the essays and the answer is always the same—nothing. I wouldn’t change a thing. That’s not because I got everything right or there was no room for improvement—I didn’t and there was. I wouldn’t change anything because when I wrote the essays in Bad Feminist, mostly between 2009 and 2012, I did the best I could with the skill and knowledge and perspective I had at the time. The version I would write today would be similar—my voice would be recognizable—but it would also, I hope, be quite different, more mature, sharper.
None of that really matters. This is the book I wrote and it is exciting to have a book in print for a decade, still selling well, and finding an audience. To celebrate, Harper Collins has released a Tenth Anniversary Edition, neon pink with sprayed pink edges because you can never have too much pink. You can find it at your favorite book purveyors.
I learned so much from writing those essays, from sharing them with all of you, and from hearing your opinions about my opinions, whether you agreed or disagreed or somewhere in between. I am grateful to anyone who bought the book or borrowed it from a local library or shared it with a friend or taught it in class or learned from it in class. Thanks to all the readers who bring their battle-worn copy to the signing line, apologizing where no apology is needed because books are meant to be read and lived with, not kept in glass cases. And last but never least, thank you to the librarians who include(d) Bad Feminist in their collections and all the booksellers who stocked the book, hand sold the book, wrote recommendations, and otherwise supported the book. As I said, publishing is not a solitary endeavor.
When you put a book into the world, it’s like putting a little paper boat into the water and gently pushing it into the unknown, not knowing where it will land. I’m so proud of Bad Feminist and shores the book has found. I’m excited to put more little book boats into the water, and follow them to whatever shores they find.
(I talk about all this at much greater length in How to Be Heard that will come out some day, I promise.)
I appreciate the backstory of the book and that you shouted out the people who worked on it. I liked the old cover but love how bright and bold the new one is.
Congratulations on your anniversary! Bad Feminist was the first of your books that I read and I have been a fan ever since. Please keep doing what you do so well.