I’m typing this with one hand because I’m pinching myself with the other (OK wait that didn’t sound as dirty in my head. Back to typing with two hands.)
I’ve had this post sitting in my drafts for a few months. I realize I was a bit premature in launching my Substack, since it’s designed to be a BTS look at getting a book deal, writing a book, and all of the tears and self doubt and joy that go along with it. I didn’t know how loooooong things take in the publishing world.
But, wait. I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s go back to November 2022.
As I formulated my thoughts about my sobriety, twisted them inside out on The Sober Mom Life podcast and shared them in our paid membership support meetings, my idea for a book was slowly forming.
I wanted to write a book that would help women - moms specifically - finally feel seen in their drinking and struggle to moderate. At the time, I saw the book more as an attack on Mommy Wine Culture from an influencer’s perspective who was once both a victim and a perpetrator. Afterall, I’d romanticized alcohol in my early days of influencing. I knew a thing or twelve about the trick of marketing.
Here’s where I tell you how little I knew about writing a book, and then getting it published. I turned to my trusty friend, Google, for some advice. Google told me I had to write a book proposal. Oh, OK! Cool, I thought. How hard could that be? (Oh, Suz, Suz, Suz.)
I took a few hours and whipped up a book proposal. (I can still feel the red hot burn of embarrassment.) Google then told me I needed a book agent, and was nice enough to provide a list. Thanks, Google!
You guys. I had the audacity to slap that book proposal into an email attachment and send it off to an agent.
Thanksgiving Day 2022.
We’d just finished our Thanksgiving meal and were getting ready for our traditional post-meal family walk. Before we left, I checked my email. (Why? WHY?) And, there it was:
Dear Suzanne Warye,
Umm, what were you thinking with this? What is this garbage, loser?
Thanks, but a HUGE no thanks.
Sincerely,
Very Important Book Agent
PS: You suck.
OK, fine. I’m paraphrasing. I really have no idea what it said because I read that baby once and never ever again. Her message was clear: she didn’t want to represent me. (Also? No hard feelings because that proposal really was a piece of garbage.)
I spiraled (as I do) and then let it go for the rest of the year. The desire to write a book was still there, but it’d always been there. As soon as I learned how to read, I wanted to write.
January 2023.
It was the new year, which meant I could breathe new life into this dream. I decided Google kind of sucked at giving advice, so I turned to someone who had done what I wanted to do. I reached out to my friend Emily Paulson of
, who wrote Highlight Reel: Finding Honestly and Recovery Beyond the Filtered Life and Hey, Hun: Sales, Sisterhood, Supremacy and the Other Lies Behind Multilevel Marketing, and asked about her book coach. I knew I needed help, and I wanted the best.Emily guided me to NYT best-selling editor and author, writing coach and book genius extraordinaire, Kristen McGuiness. (Again and always: Thank you, Emily!) I scheduled a call with Kristen and we were off to the races.
(I’m going to fast forward A LOT here. I’ll share more about the book proposal process in an upcoming post!)
After about 6 months (which is just a *bit* longer than 3 hours) of working on the book proposal with Kristen, it was ready to go. Kristen sent it off to a handful of book agents.
Honestly, it was a bit of a bust. Again, I felt like I had gotten my hopes up just for them to be dashed. So far, I wasn’t a fan of the publishing world.
Finally, in a stars aligned kind of moment, I shared with my friend Dr. Brooke Scheller, author of How to Eat to Change How You Drink, that I was struggling to find a book agent. She offered to connect me with hers. When Brooke told me her name, I was surprised because it was the same agent Kristen had been in contact with earlier. That had to mean it was meant to be, right??
Well, yes. But not so fast…
September 2023
I reached out to Brooke’s agent, Coleen O’Shea, and sent her my proposal.
I waited. And waited. When I hadn’t heard anything, I followed up about a week later. Finally, a response! Coleen wanted to chat. I was beside myself with a feeling that hovered steadily between excitement and terror.
Coleen called me a week later. She was blunt: This was nothing new. Everyone knew moms were drinking too much. The whole world was aware Mommy Wine Culture was an issue. How was she going to be able to sell this to publishers who already considered quit lit a crowded genre? It wasn’t going to work.
I was in FULL ON PITCH MODE. When I tell you I was selling myself to Coleen, I was selling myself. I gave her my stats, my Instagram analytics (at that point I think I had just over 100k followers). I told her what I’d heard from women every single day: they wanted more sobriety support. They wanted more sobriety content. I told her I’d bring the audience. I’d bring the market. I knew how to sell.
Then she said a few magic words that I clung to for the next few months: “This isn’t the proposal, but if you rework it into something that is new and different in this space, I’ll be happy to take a look.”
That’s all I needed to hear.
That night, I completely shifted the direction of my book. For the next week, I tirelessly reworked my book proposal and sent the new version to Kristen to help me refine it even more.
A few weeks later, I sent it back off to Coleen.
We chatted the next week. She loved the new direction, but was still wary of the saturated market. “Let me see what I can do,” she told me. “I like you. And I think this could be good, but I’m not promising anything. The Big 5 already have their sobriety book, so they won’t even look at this. We’ll send it to the smaller publishing houses. I’ll keep you updated.”
Just a few days later, Coleen told me we had a few meetings set up with a few publishers. I could tell she was surprised.
The following weeks were a whirlwind of Zoom meetings and follow up calls and talks of deadlines and publishing dates and target markets.
We’d met with 3 publishers and they were all interested. They submitted their offers, and we were feeling pretty damn good.
Then at the last minute, HarperOne, a publishing imprint of HarperCollins, reached out. HarperOne was a bigger publisher, and they were interested.
February 2024
I took the Zoom meeting with Coleen and HarperOne while my family and I were on our annual winter trip to Florida in February. Sunburnt and in full on vacation mode, I settled into one of the bedrooms, which I hoped was the quietest corner of the house. I propped my laptop on a few pillows on the bed, and crossed my fingers that the editors at HarperOne wouldn’t hear the vacation cacophony downstairs.
45 minutes later, I floated back downstairs to my family, unable to answer their eager questions. The meeting had gone well, but I couldn’t quite describe the feeling of being suspended between reality and my lifelong dream.
It was all happening (in the words of the great Scheana Shay), but it hadn’t yet happened. I was dangling in the yawning moment before the big, life-changing thing. I was stuck in the seconds just after the roller-coaster climbs to its peak, and just before the stomach-flipping drop.
Coleen explained the book was going to auction, which is apparently an ideal scenario when selling a book. My mind immediately conjured memories of going to car auctions with my dad when I was little. I loved those days with my dad. The smell of exhaust and sweat, the indistinguishable trail of sounds coming from the auctioneer, my dad’s slight movements to signal his bids. A nod of his head. A twitch of his eye. I remember being terrified I would accidentally purchase a car if I fidgeted too much or made the wrong move. So I tried to remain as still as possible, my eyes fixed on my dad.
Apparently, a book auction is much different than a car auction.
I was disappointed to discover there wouldn’t be an auctioneer. Instead, Coleen set a deadline for all interested publishers to submit their best bid.
The deadline was set for a week later.
I returned home to snow and Midwest air that hurt my face. I tried to resume life as normal, but nothing felt normal. That whole week is a blur.
Coleen’s call came a few minutes after the deadline. I was working out in our gym, hoping sweat could drown my nervous energy and silence my doubts.
Her name popped up on my phone. I hopped off the treadmill and tried to sound as easy breezy as possible (which wasn’t possible.)
“Are you sitting down?” She asked me.
I remember finding that funny. I didn’t know people asked that in real life - I’d only ever heard it on movies. Still, I sat down. (Because that’s what they always do in the movies.)
“HarperOne came in with a six figure offer. They want the book.”
Holy shit.
I’m never speechless. In fact, I’m usually so full of speech.
We did it. It REALLY IS ALL HAPPENING. (Should I get that tattoo, or nah?) Coleen and I celebrated and laughed and swore. We’d come so far since that first phone conversation.
So, there you have it.
That’s how I got my first book deal.
In the next year, I’ll be sharing a lot more about the whole process. I’ll write about just how long things take in the publishing world. I’ll share the privilege required to be able to put my life on hold to write a book. And I’ll answer any questions you have. (Leave them in the comments!)
THANK YOU!! Thank you for reading and supporting and helping make my dream come true.
Truly. 🤍
It’s absolutely true you’ve wanted to write since you could read. (I remember the little book you wrote during your Sweet Valley Twins phase.) I’m not at all surprised that you are talented enough to write—and tenacious enough to get that book deal! So proud of you, sweet girl.
This is AMAZING, Suzanne! Congrats!