ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO WRITE A COOKBOOK?
Wait a minute. I’m a literary agent who specialises in cookery – why am I even asking that question? Well, the truth is that it’d be easier for me to add to the growing canon of advice on how to write a cookbook, but by framing it this way, I’m hoping to offer a really candid view of exactly what’s involved in not only chasing but realising the dream. And if you think that sounds overly dramatic, please hear me out.
As someone who’s pretty proactive in terms of approaching potential authors to discuss ideas for cookbooks, it’s rare for me to talk to anyone who doesn’t already, somewhere, harbour this ambition. Sure, in some cases the author may feel that they need to wait a while before embarking on such a project, but for almost anybody who’s interested in food and has some kind of profile, publishing a cookbook is high up on their wish list.
And yet expectations can vary enormously, and what I want to do here is be very clear about what’s involved in the whole process, from start to finish, to help you assess whether authorship is something you want to pursue.
HONING YOUR IDEA(S)
I’ll be honest: there are an awful lot of people out there creating really beautiful food – be it pub grub, budget cooking, regional cuisine, plant-based wizardry or showstopping bakes – and many of them would love to write a book. If you’re among them, you need to stop and think why, in a crowded market, a publisher would invest in your work. This isn’t me trying to put you back in your box; it’s an honest interrogation of your motivations and how you will show a publisher that you have what it takes to cut through and sell, despite the competition. Sure, it’s great to have a significant social media following, but this isn’t the be all and end all – you still need to be offering something unique, whether that be your cooking style, your particular knowledge of the cuisine, or simply your personality.
So it’s a question of identifying what makes your work special, at the same time as considering how that works in the current market. Because yes, like so many other things, cookery publishing is trend-driven, and with long lead times on illustrated books, catching the right moment can be a tricky thing to do.
Some books are game-changers – I’m thinking Jamie Oliver’s Naked Chef books, Anna Jones’s A Modern Way to Eat, Olia Hercules’s Mamushka, numerous Ottolenghi titles – boldly planting their flags in new territories and inspiring others to follow. Then of course there are the more derivative books (just about every one-pan book since Rukmini Iyer’s Roasting Tin). However, there is also a substantial in-between category which explores the middle ground by following in the wake of those bold leaders whilst doing something original and valuable (for example, books focused on more regional cookery have flourished in recent years thanks to the exploration of previously underexplored cuisines by authors such as Olia Hercules and Lara Lee). Overlaps are inevitable as all cookery is a form of imitation and borrowing, so you shouldn’t feel daunted by them, but you do need to spend a good deal of time working out how your book will earn its distinctive place on bookshelves and in kitchens.
Oh, and one other quick word of advice: don’t forget to think in the long-term! Some people might be born to write just one brilliant cookbook, but most are looking for more. So while you may want to throw in everything including the kitchen sink so as to dazzle potential publishers, it’s worth taking a step back in order to maintain focus and make practical decisions about what material really earns its place in this first book, and what might best be held back for another project further down the road.
PUTTING TOGETHER A PROPOSAL
This is a bigger job than you might think, even though some run to just a dozen or so pages. It’s your book in microcosm – condensing down all your ideas into a simple, readable and attractive document. Oh, and not forgetting that apart from providing a good read, it needs to function as a marketing and sales tool. Not asking for much, then…
Just about every first-time author I work with goes through a phase of beating themselves up about their proposal. For some it’s about a fear that their work isn’t good enough, whereas for others it’s a struggle to put finger to keyboard. We’re not talking about writer’s block here, though – more like writer’s overwhelm. Compared with writing the manuscript of a whole novel, you might think penning a cookery proposal is a fairly simple task. But when was the last time you tried to reduce a book’s worth of content and ideas down to a document less than one-sixth of its eventual size?
I’ll go into more detail about how an agent might help with this in a later article, but it’s important to say here that the struggle is real, and you are not alone! Best of all is to think of the proposal as laying down the foundations of your work, creating the skeleton to which you will add flesh. Because the more time and effort you spend nailing your proposal, the more straightforward the writing of the book is going to be. It’s not just a declaration of your intended contents to show the publisher – it’s a roadmap for you as an author, and it’s worth planning a good route if you don’t want to get lost along the way.
PRACTICALITIES
Still reading? Excellent! Because this is where we get down to the nitty-gritty details of what’s involved in the making of a book, and what it might mean for you in practical terms.
Advance – for all you Countertalkers who’ve been following Rav’s previous conversations about writing a cookbook, you’ll know that the number one rule is to be realistic about the money, and how it’s paid. Sure, there are some big deals to be had, but most debut cookery authors (depending on the size of their following and influence) will be looking at a four- or low-five-figure advance. This gets divided into three or four tranches, payable over anywhere between 18 and 36 months, so don’t be quitting that job just yet.
Photography – with Instagram making professional photographers of us all (I jest), it’s not uncommon these days for publishers to ask cookery authors if they’re interested in taking their own photographs. For some, this is enormously flattering, and offers greater flexibility than fixed shoot days, but for others it can potentially be a lot more work than they had anticipated. My advice? Make sure you have a view on this ahead of discussions with any publisher.
Timetable – as part of your proposal you’ll need to offer a date for delivering your manuscript (i.e. all writing and recipes; possibly photography too if that’s what you’re planning). Before you pluck a date from the air, however, do consider very carefully. What are your other work commitments, and how do you work best – to a tight deadline or with plenty of time to experiment? How many recipes have you already perfected? Most publishers don’t have a budget for recipe testing, so how are you going to do this? Several times? 80 recipes are a lot when multiplied by three or so. And let’s not forget any potential research or creative thinking that needs to be fitted into this timeframe.
Photography – assuming you’re not taking your own photos, generally somewhere between 6 and 8 days of photography will need to be booked in. These days are usually broken up, with some early photography being used for sales material, and photography usually takes place once you’ve submitted your manuscript, though this can vary depending on each publishing schedule. It’s not 100% essential to attend photo shoots (most publishers will provide brilliant food and prop stylists), but I would 100% recommend it. This is your food, going out in a book with your name on it, so do think carefully about how you can make sure you’re there even if you have other work demands.
Checking edits and proofs – once you’ve delivered your manuscript, you’ll likely experience a combination of elation and terror. First of all you’ll be high-fiving yourself for scraping in under the deadline, but soon after the reality of having submitted your work for feedback will hit. Imposter syndrome: now is the time for your first appearance. On a practical level, though, what this means is that you’ll get a short break from your words, before receiving editorial feedback that may require you to make some small or large changes. And you’ll probably be asked to make them quite quickly - i.e. in less than a month. That’s stage one. Once you’ve sent those back the manuscript will be sent to a copy-editor, who will send you a significant list of queries such as ‘did you really mean 2 tablespoons of baking powder, or should it be 2 teaspoons?’ By the time you’ve worked through this list you will either love or despise your copy-editor, but do be aware that they are one of your absolute best friends in this process. Again, you’ll get maybe a week or two to work through these queries, and then it's time for proofs: exciting! Proofs will be professionally proofread, but it’s also your final chance to spot any errors you need to correct, and typically you’ll get a week or two to do this. Any decent publisher will give you a decent schedule well in advance of this process, but it’s important to be aware that when they say jump, you say yes indeedy.
PUBLICITY AND MARKETING
If you’ve already got a serious online following, you’ll be expected to work it hard. The amount of cash that most marketing departments have to spend on your book will likely be minimal, and what they do have they will often allocate to sponsored ads – the days of billboards on the tube are (just about) long gone. This means that A LOT of the rest of this work will land on you – albeit with support from your publisher. As a minimum, they will supply you with some assets and make suggestions/propose a timetable for posting to your various accounts in order to maximise pre-orders and sales. But then what you do beyond this can really make a difference, and bringing your own unique style to the approach really helps – but of course this can use up a lot of energy, and social media fatigue is not to be underestimated.
Then there’s publicity. Cookbooks are rarely reviewed in the way that novels or general non-fiction books are, but print is still important, and your publisher will try their best to get extracts into appropriate publications in order to promote the book. But with hard copy sales down, budgets are low for most newspapers and magazines, so even a number of pages in a glossy magazine will barely pay in cash terms, but it’s all good publicity. And the really lucky among you might even get offered a regular gig in a weekly or monthly publication – but again, it’s better for your profile than for your bank balance.
Finally, how do you feel about events? These can range from bookshop talks to demos at festivals, supper clubs and collaborations. Depending on your network and personality, these can be a majorly enjoyable part of the process or your biggest nightmare, so it’s important to consider how you might feel about them. Some will sell a good number of books, but others will be more about raising your profile, so again, there’s no obvious equation here but it’s another potential commitment to think about.
IN CONCLUSION
I’ve rambled on for long enough here, but in doing so I hope I’ve offered at least a few morsels for thought, ideally in a helpful rather than a negative way. Needless to say, I work a lot with cookery authors because food people are always the best people, but in addition to this it’s worth saying that the most brilliant thing about cookery publishing is how collaborative it is. You’ll have a whole team consisting of editor(s), designer, photographer, stylists, publicists, marketing and sales folk, all coming together to make your book the most brilliant and beautiful it can be, and there’s nothing like seeing it go out into the world and be loved and promoted among readers and the incredibly supportive cookery community that exists out there.
So if you’re still here and haven’t been put off by the prospect of some hard work and soul-searching, off you go, eyes wide open, and get to work on that masterpiece!