Publishing 101: The Class I Never Planned to Take

Storytime at Thirsty Caterpillar Bookstore

Every August, parents buy backpacks, sharpen pencils, label lunchboxes, and wonder if their kids are ready for a new school year.

There are new teachers to meet, new routines to learn, and a whole lot of hope tucked into those backpacks.

But here’s something no one tells you: life has a way of sending adults back to school, too.

I haven’t stepped into a classroom as a student in decades, but this season of life was filled with moments when I felt like I was standing at the bus stop on the first day of freshman year—excited, nervous, and wondering if I remembered where I was supposed to go.

There were lessons I didn’t know I needed to learn, pop quizzes I definitely wasn’t prepared for, and more than a few moments when I wondered if I was about to flunk out completely. (And yes, there may have even been a few dreams where I showed up late and missed the final. Apparently, my subconscious still likes giving surprise assignments.)

Because of a story I originally wrote for my own children, Mama Duck’s Lost Duckling, I found myself enrolled in a class I never expected:

Publishing 101.

Like most freshmen, I walked in thinking I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into. After all, I’d written the book. Surely that was the hardest part, right? Well…let’s just say I was a little duckling myself.

It turns out writing the story was just passing the entrance exam, and the first step into a much bigger pond.

First came the vocabulary lessons: ISBNs. Metadata. BISAC categories. Sell-through. Advance reader copies. I felt like everyone else had been swimming in these waters for years while I was still figuring out how to keep my little duck feet paddling.

Then came the group projects.

An illustrator. A designer. A printer. A marketer. A publicist. Bookstore owners. Librarians. Readers.

Suddenly, publishing looked a lot less like sitting alone at a desk writing words and a lot more like a flock working together to help a story take flight.

There were growing seasons filled with learning. Stormy days filled with doubt. Sunny moments when everything came together. And plenty of times when I had to remind myself that even the tallest trees started as tiny seeds.

Of course, there were plenty of pop quizzes along the way. A bookseller would ask a question I didn’t know how to answer. Someone would mention a marketing strategy I had never heard of. Just when I thought I had finally figured something out, another lesson would land in my inbox.

And the homework?

Apparently, social media assigns homework every single day. (Who knew Instagram had so many assignments?)

The biggest surprise, though, was realizing there isn’t really a graduation ceremony. Well…maybe there is.

The day you finally hold your ‘book baby’ in your hands feels a lot like graduation. After years of dreaming, writing, revising, and believing, you finally get to hold the little piece of your heart you sent out into the world.

You stand there thinking:

I did it.

But unlike graduation, no one hands you your diploma and says, “Congratulations! You now know everything there is to know about publishing.” Because that’s when the next semester begins.

Now come storytimes. School visits. Bookstore events. Podcasts. Marketing. Social media. Most importantly, connecting with readers and learning how to connect your story with the audience who will love it. The lessons just keep coming—and honestly, I hope they always do.

Because the funny thing about growing up is that we never really stop being students. We simply trade spelling tests for life’s next adventure.

A duckling doesn’t learn to fly in one day. A flower doesn’t bloom overnight. 

Neither do we.

Whether it’s starting a new school, opening a business, beginning a new career, retiring, or finally chasing a dream you’ve carried for twenty years, every new adventure begins the same way: by admitting you don’t know everything and showing up anyway.

So, whether you’re carrying a backpack or carrying around a dream you’ve been putting off, take heart.

Nobody starts in the honors class. And sometimes the best stories begin with the courage to be a beginner.

Here's to fresh starts, curious hearts, and discovering that it's never too late to become a student again.

With Gratitude,

Janice

Janice Bangs and Lucky the Giant Duckling