It has been eight years since I started my journey as a published author, and over that time, I’ve written six books. When I think back to writing my first book, there was so much I didn’t know.
Table of contents
I knew how to write about personal finance. I had spent years building Clever Girl Finance, creating content, teaching women about money, and having conversations with my audience. But knowing your subject and knowing what it’s actually like to write, publish, and promote a book are two very different things.
There are certain parts of the process that I could prepare for. I could learn about writing a proposal, work through edits, meet deadlines, and understand the publishing process.
But there were other things I really couldn’t understand until I experienced them myself.
Looking back now, there are a few things I wish I had known before my first book came out.
How vulnerable releasing a book would feel
This is probably one of the biggest things I wasn’t prepared for.
You can spend months or even years working on a book privately. You’re writing, rewriting, editing, having conversations with your publisher, and slowly shaping this thing that mostly exists between you and a relatively small group of people.
Then one day, it’s out in the world.
People can buy it, they can read it, and they can review it. They can agree with you, disagree with you, love it, criticize it, recommend it, or decide it’s simply not for them.
That was a much more emotional experience than I expected.
With my first book especially, I remember wondering how people would respond. Would they like it? Would the ideas resonate? Would they think it was good enough? Would anyone even care?
There’s a vulnerability that comes with putting something you’ve spent so much time creating into the hands of people whose reactions you cannot control.
Six books later, I can’t say that feeling has disappeared completely. I still care about how my work is received because I’ve put time, thought, and effort into creating it. But I’ve become much more comfortable with the fact that once a book is released, it no longer belongs only to me. Readers are going to have their own experiences with it, and I can’t manage every response.
I’ve learned to focus more on creating something I’m proud to put my name on and then allowing readers to decide what it means to them.
Writing the book is only one part of the job
Before my first book, I spent most of my energy thinking about actually writing it.
That makes sense. When you’ve never written a book before, finishing the manuscript feels like the enormous goal sitting in front of you.
What I didn’t fully understand was how much work happens after the writing is done.
There are edits, revisions, approvals, audiobook recording, launch preparation, interviews, events, social media, reader engagement, and all kinds of other things happening around the book.
The work changes, but it doesn’t suddenly disappear because you’ve submitted the manuscript.
I’ve become much better at anticipating that entire cycle now. When I’m working on a book, I’m not only thinking about getting it written. I’m also thinking ahead to what the months surrounding publication are going to require from me.
That perspective has helped me plan my time and, just as importantly, protect my energy.
Marketing isn’t something you do once
I really didn’t have much of a clue about book marketing when my first book came out.
I understood the obvious parts. You announce the book, share it with your audience, participate in interviews, and promote it around launch.
What I learned along the way was that book marketing isn’t a launch-week activity. It’s an ongoing process.
A book doesn’t suddenly become irrelevant because its publication date has passed.
People discover books months and years later. Someone hears you on a podcast and looks up your work. A reader recommends your book to a friend. A company purchases copies for an event. A book club selects it. An old interview gets discovered online. You mention a relevant book in an article or conversation.
All of those moments can introduce an existing book to a completely new reader.
Once I understood that, I stopped thinking about promotion as one big push around publication and started thinking about how my books could remain naturally integrated into my work over time.
Today, I go into every launch with my own marketing plan regardless of what my publisher or a PR team may be doing. I also continue promoting my books long after their initial launches because I’ve seen firsthand how long the life of a book can be.
That is something I had to learn through experience.
How much I would learn from my readers
When you write nonfiction, you obviously have an idea of who you’re writing for and what you hope they’ll take away from the book.
But readers will inevitably find their own meaning in your work.
Over the years, I’ve had people tell me about specific stories, sentences, or ideas from my books that stayed with them. Sometimes it’s exactly what I expected. Other times, it’s something I never would have predicted would resonate so strongly.
I’ve especially seen this through book clubs and reader discussions, where I get to hear people unpack the ideas in real time.
Those conversations have taught me a lot about my own writing. They’ve helped me understand which ideas connect most deeply, what questions readers still have, and how different life experiences shape the way someone receives the same message.
Before becoming an author, I thought primarily about what I wanted to communicate. Now I think much more about the conversation that happens after I’ve communicated it.
That every book would teach me how to write the next one
I didn’t finish my first book suddenly knowing everything about writing books.
I learned by doing it again and again.
Each book has taught me something different about my own process.
I’ve learned how important a detailed outline is for me before I start writing. I’ve learned that my first draft does not need to be perfect. I’ve learned how to step away when I have writer’s block instead of sitting in front of my computer trying to force words that aren’t coming.
I’ve also learned more about working with editors, reading my work aloud, recording audiobooks, navigating deadlines, and understanding when something I’ve written isn’t working and needs to change.
By book six, I certainly have a process, but I don’t think that means I’ve figured everything out. I just know myself much better as a writer than I did when I started.
There is a confidence that comes from repetition, but there is also humility in realizing that every new book still asks something different of you.
How far a book can travel beyond the bookshelf
When I wrote my first book, I obviously wanted people to read it.
What I didn’t fully appreciate was how many other opportunities could grow from having a published body of work.
My books have supported conversations that have led to speaking engagements, media opportunities, partnerships, events, book clubs, and connections with people I might never otherwise have met.
That doesn’t mean writing a book automatically creates those opportunities, and I don’t think anyone should write one solely because they expect it to open doors.
But a book can become a very tangible representation of your expertise, your ideas, and your perspective. It can introduce you to someone before you’ve ever had a conversation with them.
I’ve come to see that as part of the value of authorship too.
What I know now after six books
If I could go back and talk to myself before writing my first book, I wouldn’t tell myself not to worry or pretend that everything was going to be easy.
I would probably tell myself that there was going to be much more to the experience than I could see from where I was standing.
I would tell myself that releasing the book would feel exciting and vulnerable at the same time. That marketing would become an ongoing part of the process rather than something I could check off a list after launch. That some of the most meaningful moments would come from conversations with readers I hadn’t met yet.
And I would tell myself that I didn’t need to know everything before I started.
A lot of what I know about being an author today came from writing the first book without knowing exactly what I was doing, paying attention to what I learned, and carrying those lessons into the next one.
Eight years and six books later, I’m still learning. I just have a lot more experience to learn from now.