Often, over here in publishing-adjacent Substackia, some viral story will hit, and then five or so smart people write responses in their newsletters. I usually sit those out, because the others ahead of me in line did the job, and well, already. But the latest topic that many are discussing is being taken up by the three people I most respect in this field, and on a topic smack dab in my purview.
The three posts are form Ann Kjellberg at
, Jane Friedman at The Hot Sheet, and at SHuSH. I want you to click through and read the conversation that have started (in that order), I am not going to quote them here. But if you write nonfiction, particularly researched nonfiction, or want to some day, or are a humanities academic, you should click and, if you can, pay to subscribe.The Tl;Dr is this: there is less researched nonfiction being published, even less being acquired, and part of the problem is the increasing difficulty of getting a large enough advance, the changes in employment that leave fewer with the ability to take the time off needed to write such a book, and the popularity of newsletters like this that allow one to write quickly about the topic without going through the rigamarole of getting a traditional book contract.
All of them are correct! All this is true! But I have two points to add to the discussion:
—the onerous proposal process
—how I have published researched nonfiction by avoiding the above obstacles (sorry, will be self-congratulatory).
The Onerous Proposal Process
I have a research nonfiction book project. I’ve been fiddling around with it for a few years. I’ve had conversations with agents and editors about it. I think it would be really fun to write. I would not need to take a year off to write it. I have drafted all the sections of a proposal except one, so I have never sent a proposal to an agent or editor because, same: I don’t have a sample chapter or two. I teach courses on book proposals and am amazed people can write these (the two proposals I have sold in the past did not have sample chapters). I simply do not know how to write a sample chapter because for me I need to know what the book is about, who it is for (what kind of publisher, the market, etc.) before I can write such a chapter. Even the chapter outline flummoxes me. I can propose away: I can write a great query, and nail the comps and marketing sections, but those sample chapter defeat me.
This is partially a me problem but also a proposal problem. A friend of mine needed to send their agent a 25,000 word proposal before they would read it. Many proposals are in the 60K word range. It’s an enormously high bar, and it takes almost as much time (and leave from work) to do the kind of book proposal that both Big Five and most academic presses (given peer review) require. So many good books linger unpublished not because the publishing house didn’t offer a large enough advance, but because the proposal process is unnecessarily complex and time-consuming. Also, it caters to a certain kind of writer, and not all people who could write great researched non-fiction can write a great book proposal.
What I’ve Done At Belt
I’m a writer, former professor, and a publisher. When I started Belt, I was well-aware of the above problem. Some great writers will never be able to write a good proposal. They are just not good at that writing genre, which is, I must underscore, an entirely different type of writing from the one you are proposing to do. Writers have their strengths and weaknesses! Some of us are, as they say, pantsers (go by the seat of our pants, could not possibly write a good sample chapter, ahem) and others are plotters, outlining everything in advance (proposals are their bailiwick). So my model when we started was aimed at avoiding the above issues.
Publish Short Books. Our ‘signature’ series of researched nonfiction are called (internally) “Notches” and they max out at 60,000 words, with an average of 45,000, and some as few as 30,000. This makes book writing much less onerous for the writer (and the resultant volume, 5 x 7” trim size, less intimidating to readers, plus cute). Writers are more likely to be able to complete a manuscript without leaving their day jobs, or any of the other obstacles. We also call these books to “longform essays” to emphasize the relative feasibility.
Not Require Billion Word Proposals. Many of the contracts I offer happen without any proposal at all. What often happens is this: I reach out to a writer who I admire, who I think might have a Belt-y book in them. We have a conversation. Sometimes that’s all I need to offer a contract, usually with a pretty quick deadline. So basically instead of spending the next six months writing up a proposal based on the conversation, they spend it writing the book. This process has worked well! It’s how books we’ve published about the culture of Appalachia, gentrification in Chicago, the literature of the Midwest, the changing nature of American sports fandom, and other researched nonfiction Belt has published have happened.
Work with Writers Whose Careers May (Slightly) Improve with a Book. A lot of our titles are written by PhD holders who are not tenure-track professors. They may be journalists, or freelancers, or adjuncts, or non-tenure track teaching professors. They have done research on the topic already, understand how to write researched nonfiction, and, while their careers do not depend on them publishing a book, they would be improved if their C.V. had a single-authored book on it. For them, Belt’s low advances are offset by the potential earnings a book might bring them in their jobs, or in future career changes, but not necessarily change their lives. They are not starting from scratch, and, given that their goal has never been to write a bestseller or receive a 6 figure advance, they are happy to be able to work with us.
Many people realize that Belt books often fall within a certain niche, but less obvious but also true is so do most of our authors. In addition, given the above, we more often work directly with authors than with agents (though I am always eager to read agented submissions). Because the often paralyzing obstacle of writing a book proposal is exactly the same re: finding an agent. Cut out all these middles and the pathway to publication can be easier, quicker, and more fun.
None of the above obviates the need to read and understand the true, smart, insightful points made by Ann, Ken, and Jane in their initial posts that started this convo. Thanks to them for pointing them all out.
Wondering what Belt is publishing next? We’ve just announced some new titles for Spring 2025, all with our signature David Wilson covers.
Thanks so much for the kind words and for including me in this great conversation! This onerous process for a book proposal is a stark contrast to how one commissions a magazine piece—or at least how I do. You go on the basis of what a writer has done before. If they’re a good writer, and it’s a strong subject, you trust them to know how to do it. Of course the stakes are much lower, but I really wonder how much more an editor gets out of a laboriously prepared sample than just reading someone’s past work. If they propose to be striking into new terrain, maybe just a few pages in which they articulate how they mean to handle this differently than work they’ve done in the past. It’s the whole kismet of the job, seeing the potential in writers.
I recall the proposal process for Belt being nice because it was actually a helpful step along the way to writing the book itself, a way for me to gather enough thoughts to prove (to myself above all) that I had a book in me, but not so onerous as to sap the energy required for the book. I ended up taking the same approach with the proposal for my next book, not doing a sample chapter, basically just doing a bunch of capsule paragraphs about the ideas the book would grapple with, and it ended up being a document convincing enough for my agent to sell.
I did have an advantage in that I had various pieces I'd published about the topic so publishers could see a sample of what I was going to do in the book, but I think you're on to something important about what kind of bar a proposal should have to clear before getting greenlighted. When it's too high, not enough people will even make the attempt.