The Terrible First Draft that Saved My Book
Here's the brutally honest feedback that reshaped QUIET -- and what it means for your own creative work.
But first, mark your calendars! Our next Candlelight Chats are December 14, when we’ll be hosting special guest Sonja Lyubomirsky, the bestselling author of How to Feel Loved, and January 25, when we’ll be hosting Dr. Jennifer Reid, the author of Guilt Free: Reclaiming Your Life from Unreasonable Expectations. As usual, we’ll send out log-in information to paid and scholarship subscribers, ahead of the event.
Every so often, I like to tell you the story of the letter my editor sent me, after I turned in my first draft of QUIET.
About two years after I’d signed the contract to write the book, I turned in a draft, more or less on deadline.
There was only one problem.
The draft was terrible.
I knew this – and, as soon as my editors read it, they knew it too.
At that point, they could’ve done three things:
Cancelled my contract.
Decided to publish it, as is (this would have been pretty typical).
Given me all the time I needed to re-write the book, and get it right.
*
I was so lucky that they chose Option 3.
In their attempts to help me get it right, this is the letter that one of my editors, the gifted Peter Guzzardi, sent me. I thought I’d share it with you. Because when it comes to creative work, usually we only get to see the end product. We have no idea of all the twists and turns it takes to get there.
As you’ll see, I had my work cut out for me. I shared this letter with one writer friend, and she said that she would’ve found it so daunting and dispiriting that she might’ve stopped right there. But I knew I needed help. And I really wanted to get it right.
I’m sharing Peter's letter with you again (edited, because it was VERY long) because, if you have a creative work you’re trying to perfect, or a business you’re trying to launch, or really any project, you're probably going to mess up along the way, too. AND THIS IS PART OF THE PROCESS – REALLY.
QUIET spent seven years on the New York Times bestseller list. It has sold over 4 million copies and was translated into over 45 languages.
But this is what it looked like, along the way:
Dear Susan,
..As we discussed, you’ve come up with a really exciting, ambitious book idea, which has the potential to be one of those books that everyone’s talking about, that truly has an impact on the way we see ourselves, each other, and the world...
The bad news is that there’s no easy way to write a book with such expansive aspirations. It’s going to take more work than a book that follows the beaten path. Lots more. Specifically, this means completely rewriting this first draft. But, as we’ve discussed, I know you have the talent to do it, Crown is giving you time to do what needs to be done, and the topic you’ve chosen is so interesting that it inspires us all. The rest is a matter of structure and execution—no small challenge, but certainly one that’s within reach.
When I was reading this first draft, I lit up with excitement in places that may give us insight into areas of emphasis for the second draft... The notion that we’ve created a dichotomy out of introversion/extroversion, where we’re probably all a little of both, was intriguing to me. I wanted to know much more about that. The Person/Situation Debate seems like an interesting way in to the subject, although we’re really looking at a spectrum of personality within the “Person” half of that split, as opposed to exploring whether or not people have fixed aspects of their personalities. I was also thoroughly intrigued by your comment on page 51 that “introversion/extroversion is today the most studied personality variable after IQ, with hundreds of researchers devoting their entire careers to it.” Why? What are they hoping to find? The answers to those questions might lie at the heart of this book.
As you know, Rachel and I both found ourselves hoping for more science in this book. I felt the absence of the two science chapters listed in the Table of Contents of the original proposal, particularly with regard to serotonin, and its inherent promise that we’d be exploring neurotransmitters and the mysteries of the brain. You won’t be surprised to hear that my favorite chapter in the first draft is, “This is Your Brain on Small Talk.” It supported my notion that there needed to be much more scientific research in this book, and also underscored one of the limitations of the tone of this book, which I think of as its “softness.”
I’d like the prose to be tighter, crisper, more energetic, and more filled with information and excitement. After talking to you I think all those qualities are present in your ideas, it’s just a matter of making sure that translates onto the page. Having lots of interesting research tidbits studded throughout the book to support and illustrate the various points you’re making will certainly move us toward that end. As part of our shift towards putting a greater emphasis on research, we can include more stories about the psychological and sociological work being done on introversion and extroversion, and about the people who undertake that work--and perhaps are even its research subjects. (Currently most stories are about notable introverts.) We can also make the stories shorter and sharper.
I thought one of the most important aspects of our conversation was the part when I told you I was hoping for more science, and you said that your first instinct was to include a lot more, but you were concerned that research might make this book too demanding for the audience that turns out for hardcover bestsellers. As I told you last week, I really don’t think that’s a problem. Readers who made Gladwell and Gilbert’s books big bestsellers are comfortable dealing with lots of complex information. They will be able to follow us wherever we can take them, in my opinion.
Reading this first draft I was struck by the notion that you’re underselling what this book offers the reader. On manuscript pages 19 and 41, where you’re summarizing the preface and the first chapter, you talk about this book being a call to arms, and an antidote to the Extrovert Ethic. By contrast to the ambitious promise of the book’s subtitle those seem like modest aspirations. For one thing, they’re pretty abstract, and even though this is not a self-help book I think readers want some take-away value that directly applies to their own lives. After reading these pages and talking to you I’m imagining a book with far more immediate impact than you’ve indicated on the page....
...To my way of thinking, this book is not so much a call to arms as it is a whack on the side of the head. ... So I think you need to raise the stakes here, first in your own mind, perhaps, and then on the page.......
I do think that one of the challenges here is that once we accept the premise of the book (which is clearly expressed in the subtitle) the material runs the danger of being so patently obvious that it doesn’t sustain the reader’s interest. So when you’re researching this topic I think you’ll want to put a premium on examples and bits of information that are cool, or funny, or surprising. We’re going to need to keep this lively. Surprise us.
By and large I think that in this first draft you, the author, are a bit too much with your readers. It’s not that I don’t want to know about you. I do. I want to know how you came to write this book, and why, and what qualifies you to do so. I want to know if you have sufficient expertise on the topic, or skill in describing it, to earn my trust. But I may want to get most of this information in the preface to the book. If I find myself reading too many stories about you, I begin to wonder if this is just stuff you’ve made up as you went along…
This means that I’m going to be leery about hearing too much about how you did your research. I don’t want to hear too much about how you created the flying idea machine. I think this also means being careful about using terms of your own devising. Is Extrovert Ethic yours, for example? ...
I hope that in my fervor to provide you with helpful suggestions I haven’t drowned out my enthusiasm for the wonderful topic you’ve chosen, Susan, and your obvious skills as a wordsmith. I’m a fan, and I see the potential for a fascinating and very successful book here.
I’m in Chapel Hill until Sunday if you have any questions. My office phone is X, and my cell is Y.
And I’m generally responsive to email.
With warm regards,
I hope you found this helpful, and even enlightening. And whatever project you’re hoping to complete, I hope you won’t feel daunted by the “messy middle,” and will keep on going!
Here are some questions to consider, about Peter’s letter - and your own work in the world:
Are you currently in a “messy middle” of a project or dream? Do you tend to push through - or hide under a blanket :)?
What’s one thing you wish someone would tell you, the way Peter told me? Did anything surprise you about his letter?
Would you like to share where you’re stuck—or where you just had a breakthrough?
Love,
I know from experience that this story/letter always evokes strong reactions - even if you’ve seen it before. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts today.
Love,
Susan
Wow, this letter is a master course in offering feedback. Brutally honest, yes, but not cruel or mean - in fact it is the opposite. The feedback is kind, direct, supportive - and it's clear the sender wants you to succeed. Thank you for sharing this as model and inspiration. I hunger for this kind of feedback in all aspects of my life (though I might need a good hug or cry after). I'd love to know how you processed this feedback and then went back to evolve the draft to produce the work we all know and love. Thank you, Susan, for the vulnerability and community.
Susan, I read Quiet years ago—and I loved it! As an introverted leader of several teams, your book has become a cornerstone in my small sphere of influence. When mentoring younger leaders—whether extroverted or introverted—I often recommend it as a first-year read, whether they’re stepping into their first “real” job or leading a team for the first time.
I’m curious: how did you take that first step, believing what you had to share was truly what you were called to write? Having a calling versus a preference—those are two very different starting points. What was your personal belief system at the time (if you don’t mind sharing)?
I ask because I’m intrigued by the part of your story where you stepped away from practicing law.
Over the years, I’ve been told many times that I should write a book. There’s a particular story that, when shared in conversation—usually over coffee on our front porch—I often hear, “You should write that down.”
In my early 30s, I spoke at a women’s conference, and the gracious way women approached me with thoughtful questions was such a blessing. There are too many reasons to share here, so I’ll try to keep this brief (though I’m not sure I’m succeeding 🤓).
Reading the letter from your publisher made me reflect again: Is now the time? Perhaps the story is more valuable and compelling than I realize. The sense of connectedness—if that makes sense—seems to endure regardless of time or age. It appears to inspire as well.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve wondered if I should take a step and begin. In my 30s, 40s, and 50s, life was simply too busy. I’ve been blessed by the responses when I’ve shared the story, but I never felt called to write it—only to share it as God provided the right people, in the right place, at the right time.
Writing is not my natural talent. My strength lies in connecting relationally—in small, intimate gatherings or one-on-one conversations. I’ve come to appreciate the curiosity people bring, often with a heart to learn and perhaps even see a small part of themselves in the story.