How to pick your battles

Where authors should spend their conflict capital--and where they really, really shouldn't.

I want a different due date. I want a different pub date. I want a different publicist. I want a different subtitle.

I hate these edits. I hate the cover. I hate the colors. I hate the fonts.

I’m uncomfortable going on that show. I’m uncomfortable with this angle. I’m uncomfortable licensing rights in that country.

I want to change the catalogue copy. I want to change my ending. I want to change my mind.

Conflicts begin the moment you say yes to a book deal. From there, they keep going until you stop publishing altogether—or, well, die.

Even the “easiest” publishing careers are full of conflicts. That’s fine. Whenever two or more mature adults collaborate on anything meaningful whatsoever, conflicts happen. Editors are used to them. Publicists are used to them. Agents exist primarily because of them.

I’m grateful for authors’ conflicts—seriously—because without them, I wouldn’t have a job.

If there are never any conflicts, something’s wrong.

You’ve heard this about romantic relationships; it’s just as true in publishing. A total absence of tension means someone is contorting themselves to avoid rupture: ignoring their instincts, burying their objections, digesting their disappointment in silence. That’s not harmony; it’s compression. And compression eventually—inevitably—blows.

People pleasers: you’ve been warned.

Yes, and: in publishing careers as in relationships, too much conflict is also lethal.

It destroys good faith. It drains energy and enthusiasm. It’s a huge distraction and downer. Teams that promised to accomplish more than the sum of their parts do the opposite, diminishing all of the individuals involved.

For a whole host of reasons, books born in this environment generally fail to launch. They’re bad. They’re under-edited. They don’t sell.

Success on a publishing team thus requires balance: just enough conflict.

It requires picking your battles and trusting in the fundamental expertise of your teammates as well as yourself.

Think of conflict like money. Becoming rich requires skill in both saving and spending. Conflict capital functions the same way: charge too much on your credit card, and you’ll end up bankrupt, your debt compounded by the interest of ill will; stuff your savings in a sock, and you’ll never make a secure living, let alone a meaningful life.

If you’re an author, I imagine you’re now thinking: okay, but how do I know what battles to pick? How do I spend conflict capital to expand my career at compound rates? How do I avoid reckless investments?

The best way is to spend a decade plus in therapy doing the arduous, humiliating, iterative work of emotional maturation! Works like a charm. ::jazz hands::

Well, that or just read this newsletter. Below are some general best practices on handling conflict capital, which I will henceforth call “CC.”

But first:

What exactly I’m talking about when I talk about “conflict capital”

CC is the finite supply of polite, candid, firm resistance an author can productively exert over their publishing experience before their teammates start thinking of them as a “pain” and checking out. (“Checking out” can look like irritation, defiance, avoidance, annoyance, or even—in a worst-case scenario—deal cancellation.)

Abusive resistance is never okay; among other things, it’ll make your colleagues check out immediately and never come back.

Okay, with that out of the way:

WHERE TO SPEND YOUR CC

In descending order of importance: