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What’s the most important part of a book? Well, it’s either the beginning or the ending, but in commercial terms, you’d probably have to pick out the start, because if that bit flunks, no one will find out what you do later on.

So beginnings matter.

And which bit of the novel does a new writer tackle first? Well, duh, the beginning, of course.

So the normal way of doing things is that woefully inexperienced writers take on the most important part of their projects first thing. It’s like a newbie architect deciding that he’ll tackle the Dome of St Peter's as his first build, rather than say, a school toilet block, or a nice little kitchen extension.

Now, yes, writing is easier to revise than a large stone dome, but there are some important issues here.

First, as you all know, I think it’s beyond essential to get a proper concept for your book in place, before you start to write it. I know it’s tempting just to race away when then ideas start fizzing, but it is a disaster to race off west-nor-west, if you’re actually trying to head north. I’ve known a zillion manuscripts where a writer has battled endlessly with trying to get it just right … and more or less did so. But when the fundamental concept was not saleable, all that work was for nothing.

So get that concept right. Don’t put pen to paper until you’ve done so.

But that’s not today’s topic. Let’s assume you have a cracking concept. Let’s assume you have started writing – the first two or three pages of your new book.

What’s the one thing you really need to check before you go any further? What’s the one bit that has to be right?

Story? I don’t think so. I’ve written books where nothing much happens in the first chapter. Yes, there’ll be a wriggling hint of an emerging story, but (a) not a lot and (b) it wouldn’t take more than a few lines of editing to get one in there anyway.

Character? Well, yes, that’s a better guess, except that you don’t necessarily start with your main character, and the early-on character reveals are likely to be quite modest anyway.

So what I think really matters – matters so much that it comes second only to basic novel concept / pitch – is voice.

If you start bland – if you accept bland – if bland is how you begin your book – then the entire novel is likely to drive down the Autoroute de Blandeur, the Autobahn von Boring, the Motorway of Mediocre.

It’s not that books without voice can’t sell – they do – it’s just that they are up against a ton more competition. Why should an agent or publisher pick out your basically cookie-cutter book from the pile? I mean, yes, a strong concept will always help, but you’re giving yourself a huge and needless handicap by taking that route.

Here are the openings of a handful of kids’ books:

1. The Sword in the Stone, by T. H. White (1938)

“On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, it was Court Hand and Summulae Logicales,  while the rest of the week it was the Organon, Repetition and Astrology. The governess was always getting muddled with her astrolabe, and when she got specially muddled she would take it out on the Wart by rapping his knuckles. She did not rap Kay’s knuckles because when Kay grew older he would be Sir Kay, and the master of the estate. The Wart was called the Wart because it rhymed with Art, which was short for his real name. Kay had given him the nickname. Kay was not called anything but Kay, because he was too dignified to have a nickname and would have flown into a passion if anybody had tried to give him one.”

My comment:

Yes, this text is almost 100 years old and wouldn’t work well today. But it already boils with invention and wit and a bubble of character interplay. You pretty much know from this tiny chunk that you are going to be happy to curl up with this author for the next 300 pages. (He won’t disappoint you.)

2. Jolly Foul Play, Robin Stevens (2016)

“We were all looking up, and so we missed the murder.

I have never seen Daisy so furious. She has been grinding her teeth (so hard that my teeth ache in sympathy) and saying, ‘Oh Hazel, how could we not notice it? We were on the spot!’

You see, Daisy needs to know things, and see everything, and get in everywhere. Being reminded that despite all the measures she puts in place (having informants in the younger years, ingratiating herself with the older girls and Jones the handyman and the mistresses), there are still things going on at Deepdean that she does not understand  - well, that has put her in an even worse mood than the one she's been in lately.

And, if I am honest, I feel strangely ashamed. The Detective Society has solved three real murder mysteries so far and yet we still missed a murder taking place under our noses.”

My comment:

The prose here isn’t bouncing with obvious invention, but it’s slick enough to do the two things it wants to establish immediately. First – establish that this is a book about some girls solving murders. (Brilliant idea.) Second – establish that this will be a book about characters and personalities and emotional interplay just as much as it’s about clues and corpses. (There is, in fact, much more of the former than the latter in this small chunk, even though it’s ostensibly about murder.)

The prose isn’t showy, but it is supple enough to handle all this. When the narrator wants to emphasise quite how much Daisy needs to know things, she gives us a sentence so big, it bulges at the seams. When she wants to address her sense of shame, she does so in fewer than 10 words.

3. The Dark is Rising, Susan Cooper (1973)

“He remembered Mary had said, ‘They all speak Welsh, most of the time. Even Aunt Jen.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Will.

‘Don't worry,’ his sister said. ‘Sooner or later they switch to English, if they see you're there. Just remember to be patient. And they will be extra kind because of your having been ill. At least they were to me after my mumps.’

So now Will stood patiently alone on the windy grey platform of the small station of Tywyn, in a thin a drizzle of October rain, waiting while two men in the navy-blue railway uniform argued earnestly in Welsh. One of them was small and wizened, gnome-like; the other had a soft, squashy look, like a man made of dough.”

My comment:

Again, nothing ostentatious here, but still sophisticated. We learn immediately that this book will be careful where relationships, feelings and morals are concerned – that’s the message of the first three paragraphs – whilst the physical description of the last paragraph is original, age-appropriate and interesting, without attempting to be “LOOK AT ME” interesting. It’s carefully judged and spot on. You already believe in the setting, believe in the relationship between the kids – and believe in the author’s fundamental humanity.

4. The Accidental Secret Agent, Tom McLaughlin, (2016)

“‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have spent a lifetime hiding in the shadows but today we finally get what we've all been waiting for. For today is Judgement Day. I look around this room and it makes me proud.’ Mr X paused to puff on a large cigar.

‘Look at the great things we've already done. We steal, not to make us rich, but because we can. We hurt, not because we're scared, but because we are courageous. And today, we destroy the world!’

Knowing nods rippled round the room which corrupt politicians, ghastly gangsters, and vile villains. [sic – this is how the sentence actually reads.]

‘We are finally ready,’ said Mr X, sitting at the end of a very long table. ‘All I need to do is press this red button and –’

‘PIZZA!’ a chirpy voice interrupted.”

My comment:

This is all just shouting. It’s cliché, but not even clever cliché. It’s a desperate (and successful) attempt to get publishers and kids to attach to the book by offering maximum volume, maximum knockabout humour from the very first paragraph. What makes it worse, is that all this is just a dream – as bad a way to start a book as you can find.

Again, I’m not saying you can’t be commercially successful doing that, but (a) you have to fight off a lot more competition and (b) there is not a chance that this book will be read or in print in 50 or 100 years’ time, unlike the books by White and Cooper.

And you?

Well, take care. In all four of these cases, the author established very, very early the approach they were going to be taking in all the rest of the book.

As you can see from both the Robin Stevens example and the Susan Cooper one, the approach can be subtle – not loud – but still perfectly pitched to the kind of books they want to write. A less highly attuned version of either voice would have set the authors off on a much poorer journey altogether.

And because voice goes under the radar a bit – it feels much more productive and important to draw up mind maps of your plot and spreadsheets of character interactions – you can easily misnavigate from the start.

Don’t.

Get your concept right. Get your voice right. Do those two things, do them well – and you’re good to go.

FEEDBACK FRIDAY / Voice

Give us any 250-word passage that properly exhibits the voice you’ve adopted. (Probably don’t choose the very opening chunk of your work, just because we do that quite often.)

As ever, give us the title, genre and context of your chunk, but also say something about what you’re trying to do with that voice – what characteristics do you think it has, and why does that work well with your novel?

Please title your post in this format: title / genre / [anything else we need to know]. That will help others navigate a big old forum with speed. When you're ready, you can post your work here.

Til soon.

Harry

By now, you’ve probably heard that 2026 has been declared the UK’s National Year of Reading. This is a campaign that’s close to the hearts of many book lovers – some of whom you’ll find right here at Jericho Towers.

Reading for pleasure is in decline, but the National Year of Reading aims to change that by reconnecting reading with everyday culture and experiences. Throughout 2026, initiatives to celebrate books and encourage more people to pick them up regularly will be rolling out through libraries, schools, community organisations and workplaces. We’re delighted that Jericho Writers is now a National Year of Reading Pledge Partner.

No doubt you’re familiar with the phrase ‘Readers become leaders’ – but here, as you’d expect, we’re more likely to be found chatting about how and why readers become writers. What can we learn from other authors? How can their work inform our own, or light the creative spark that powers the invention of a brand-new fictional world?

In this blog, members of Team JW shine a light on their own reading habits, highlighting the books that have meant something special to them...

"When I look back, it's as though my childhood was mapped out in books. The first one I really, properly remember was The Fantastic Mr Fox. I pretty much taught myself to read with that book. Then, zooming forwards, childhood flew by via Roger Lancelyn Green's Tales of the Greek Heroes, and Le Morte D'Arthur (with Rackham's illustrations) and The Once and Future King, and Sherlock Holmes and Hornblower and Dick Francis and Raymond Chandler and Vanity Fair (Becky Sharp was the first fictional woman I ever fell in love with…) Finally, I was onto all the big Victorian novels and some Russian doorstoppers. I still feel genuine love for all those things - and I notice how much they've since fed themselves into my own writing. Lucky we are, to have such riches."

Harry Bingham, Founder

"The Family by Mario Puzo and Carol Gino is a page turner full of intrigue, betrayal, and corruption that keeps the drama coming and had me absolutely hooked. It was unputdownable, and even after the last page it stayed with me - I had to just sit for a while thinking ‘My God!’ It was the sort of book that really makes you want to up your own game as a writer."

Cleo Slevin, Writer Support Assistant

"The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are books that will always be special to me because they were read as bedtime stories by my father, God bless him. The Ents, in particular, are a standout memory for me as my father just loved them and did spectacular voices to bring them alive. My dad was an Ent to me - oak tree solid."

Rachel Davidson, Writer Support Executive

"I've been reading My Friends by Fredrik Backman on and off for a couple of months – which is very unlike me as I generally speed read. The reason is that I find it so deeply human and devastating that I have to keep taking breaks. There is something about his writing that just gets to the core of what it means to be a human - flawed and sad and happy all at the same time. I can never put my finger on exactly what he does or how he does it, but as a writer I desperately wish I could unlock that secret magic he has."

Sophie Flynn, Managing Director 

"I was introduced to the work of Agatha Christie as a child and a lifelong fascination was born. I loved cracking the puzzles of her stories and seeing just how everything would eventually come together. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is still my all-time favourite and a book that defines the murder mystery genre. Reading it for the first time is a brilliant experience and one that I almost wish I could relive. As an adult, I can see the tropes and paths Christie created for the genre and recognise their homages in more modern work, as people also respect these great classics of the mystery genre."

Emily Mitchell, Writer Support Assistant

"I’ve been story obsessed from as far back as I can remember and was always one of those kids with a reading age ‘above her actual age’. For a long time – partly because I was deemed ‘capable’ of reading them and then because they were mandatory on my English degree course – I thought it important to read Proper, Serious Novels. It wasn’t until later that I embraced the joy of reading brilliant commercial fiction. Rapidly turning their pages during my first baby’s nap times, I devoured novels by the likes of Marian Keyes and David Nichols. Totally swept away, I laughed and cried, but also marvelled at the authenticity of the emotions they managed to convey. It’s easy to sneer at books that entertain en masse, but novels like One Day are popular for a host of very good reasons. In my own writing, I strive to perform the sort of magic I found there. I want my work to be unapologetically entertaining, but also to offer truth, humanity and a sense of connection."

Laura Starkey, Senior Marketing Executive

"I can't remember one particular book that made me fall in love with reading. Books were a big part of my early childhood, especially if unicorns or fairies were involved! But I can remember wanting to write when I read Double Act by Jacqueline Wilson. As a shy and cautious child, I identified with the quiet twin, Garnet, and felt the full plethora of emotions as the twins grew up and apart. Both the humour and the ubiquity of Jacqueline Wilson meant that it was also popular with my schoolfriends, and I can remember us trying to copy how the twins would walk and swing their hair in unison! I soon started writing my own story about twins on the family computer."

Imogen Love, Senior Writer Support & Courses Assistant

"It was a routine in my family whilst growing up that, every Saturday afternoon, we would spend it in the library, picking out our books for the week. It was during one of these fated trips I came across A Series of Unfortunate Events and the elusive Lemony Snicket. I was pulled into a world of three orphans and a tyrannical “actor” desperately seeking their fortune, where the author continuously broke the fourth wall to address its reader. I finished all 13 books in just two trips to the library and was overjoyed when my dad found a box set in a charity shop so I could delve back into the Baudelaires’ story whenever I wanted. I still have that boxset, and it sits on my desk - a reminder of why I started writing and the power of a good story."

Verity Hicks, Courses Executive

"Some of my earliest memories are tied to books. I remember being a tiny little thing on my weekly trips to the library with my mum, and I can still feel the excitement of choosing my eight books (the maximum you were allowed). I was determined to read them all before the next week’s visit and book top up. I devoured everything from Roald Dahl to Jacqueline Wilson, and I felt a special connection to stories like Matilda, where books were a kind of magic. As I grew a little older, one book that really stood out was Inkheart. It was a hardback with a beautiful cover, and I’ll never forget how special it felt! The weight of it, the characters inside it, the idea that stories could spill into real life…. if only!

Later on, I found myself drawn to darker, more atmospheric stories like Wuthering Heights and Rebecca, and that gothic thread has stayed with me ever since. I still can’t resist a mysterious house, or characters acting so weird that it keeps me up past my bedtime."

Tanya Lewis, Senior Marketing Executive

"For any creative mind, Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbertis the bible for artistic acceptance. I first read this book in my early twenties, and it now sits torn, dog-eared and annotated to within an inch of its life on my bookshelf. It has been borrowed, re-read and lovingly admired for over ten years. It's weird to think of it as a friend, but sometimes you read a book that just connects with you. This is that book for me. I would urge anyone who has not read it, or any book by Elizabeth Gilbert for that matter, to pick it up. It's your permission slip to be your gorgeous, creative self." 

Alison Hill, Content Assistant

Stay tuned for more Jericho Writers content connected to the National Year of Reading! To find out more about the campaign and how you can get involved, visit the National Year of Reading website.

I still can't believe how much has happened since winning Friday Night Live writing competition at the 2025 London Festival of Writing. Mere months after the festival, I landed an agent and an international two-book deal, but my path to publication was far from straightforward and it took many years—and abandoned manuscripts—to get here.

When I found out I was a Friday Night Live (FNL) finalist, I was in a creative slump. I'd recently finished the first draft of my novel, Seven Dishes to Fall in Love, but was struggling to move forward. The voice in my head told me it would end as it always had: with my novel dying in the query trenches. So arriving at the festival brought an unexpected wave of imposter syndrome. Here I was, a top eight finalist, and I felt self-defeated rather than hopeful.

And then I heard about a writer's wellness area at the festival run by Zoe Richards and stopped by for a chat. Zoe introduced me to the seven types of rest and helped me put into perspective everything I'd already achieved, despite the obstacles and rejections I'd faced. I carried her calm with me onto the stage that night, where I was first to read among the finalists.

I'd never read my writing in front of an audience before, let alone one this size. Over 300 people and a panel of judges—I was nervous! But as Becca Day introduced me, Jericho tutor Debi Alper leaned over and whispered, "Remember to breathe." I took her advice, doing my best to read slowly and steadily, and enjoy being up there too!

I genuinely didn't think I'd win. When my name was called, it took me a moment to even stand up, like my brain couldn't compute what was happening. I couldn't believe it. I was the winner of FNL at the 2025 London Festival of Writing and suddenly it was so clear to me—I couldn't let my writing slump drag on any longer.

That night, winner's certificate in hand, I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Your dreams can come true, but there's still work ahead." No shortcuts, no getting excited and querying early as I'd done in the past, just a focused dedication. I set a deadline, asked my writing friends to hold me accountable, and got to work. When I finished my edits about a month later, I reached out to fellow FNL finalist, Isabel Grace, who beta read my manuscript and told me to "hit send."

What happened next was surreal. Within days, I had over 20 requests for my full manuscript. I met with 14 agents and received 14 offers of representation. About a week after signing with my agent, we went on submission to publishers. Two weeks later, we had an eight-way auction in the US, a four-way auction in the UK, and multiple foreign territory deals. After years of struggle—of wondering if I should just give up, yet unable to actually walk away—all my dreams were suddenly coming true. And I had Friday Night Live to thank for giving me the final push I needed.

Why the Festival Experience Matters

The London Festival of Writing wasn't just about the competition—it was about connecting with the community and continuing to hone my craft by learning from the best. The agent one-to-ones were really valuable, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sessions, but what struck me most was the vibe: a conference full of book people who just got it. 

Writing is an investment-first experience. Unlike other jobs where you're paid to show up and can develop on the clock, writing requires commitment with no guarantees. But at the festival, everyone was there for the same reason: because they love writing. Being surrounded by other writers who share that passion, who understand the struggle, and keep going anyway was invaluable. 

Kate’s 5 Tips for Getting the Most Out of the Festival

1. Talk about your writing

At the festival, I LOVED that it was totally normal to start a conversation with, “So, what are you writing?” It's scary to share, but these are your people. Try talking about your story, even if it’s not “pitch perfect” yet. 

2. Manage your agent one-to-one expectations

Getting an invitation to query isn't the only marker of success. Listen to their feedback and insights—it's all valuable.

3. Build in moments of rest

For people who spend a lot of time writing in quiet and comfortable solitude, the festival is full-on. I'm not saying hide in a corner, but do give yourself breaks when you need them.

4. Connect with your peers

Swap contact details, follow each other online, and support one another even after the festival ends. The writing community is worth its weight in gold.

5. Take notes

Whether on paper or in voice memos to yourself, make notes about what you've learned. It's a stimulating weekend with a lot to glean, and you'll want to remember it when you return to your desk.

If you’re thinking about entering the Friday Night Live competition, I’d say… go for it! You don’t even have to win to get something out of it—many writers gain recognition through the longlist, shortlist, and finalist positions. And even if you aren't listed, it's still great practice in putting yourself, and your work, out there. 

Who knows? This just might be a career-changing night for you, like it was for me.

If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss your chance to be part of it—grab your ticket to the London Festival of Writing and step into the room where it all begins. Friday Night Live submissions open this Thursday, so now’s the moment to put your work out there. And don’t miss Kate Emilie’s opening keynote, Some Things Are Worth Waiting For.

Loved this story? Now it’s your turn. Secure your place at the London Festival of Writing and be part of the journey from the very beginning. Friday Night Live submissions open soon, with finalists taking to the stage at the Gala Dinner on Saturday 13 June, reading live to a panel of literary professionals, with the audience deciding the winner.

And don’t miss Kate Emilie’s opening keynote, Some Things Are Worth Waiting For, a full-circle moment from last year’s winner!

I knew a novelist, a good one, who believed in research. For her first book, she made notes so extensive that they were longer than the book itself.

I do not recommend this approach.

But no research? None at all? I don’t recommend that either. Even if you write straight-up fantasy, that’s probably not the right approach to take.

Research falls, I think, into two broad categories. One optional, one really not.

The optional kind of research is the sort you might do for a university dissertation. Ages ago, I wrote a book about the oil industry in the interwar years. I needed to know which oilfields were opened when, and by who, and how it was done. I needed to know about the major companies and the struggles for rights and the advances in technology. When it came to my climactic chapters around the Second World War, I needed to find out about PLUTO, the PipeLine Under The Ocean – which pumped fuel from England to Normandy, in the wake of D-Day.

All this is Sensible, Serious Stuff. If you’re writing historical fiction, you know you need to do it, and you don’t need me to lecture you.

But that kind of work simply means that your novel won’t end up being defective at a broad historical level. It’s research that ensures you don’t have your heroes drilling in Saudi Arabia, when they should have been drilling in Iran.

The second – more interesting – category of research falls under the general heading of “digging around to see if you can find details to enrich your story.”

For example...

Finding words

Words flavour a text. My oil book was peppered with terms like anticline (‘an arch-shaped structure buried deep beneath the ground’). Hog-nosed skunk. A coring barrel with jammed flaps. Baling tool. Prime steam coal. Meat cakes and yogurt. Calico flags. Wellhead pressure.

Those words deliver flavour – excitement even. The smell and feel of a place and time.

Readers don’t even have to know exactly what these things are. When I spoke about the coring barrel, my text dwelled mostly on the fact that the flaps had jammed and needed to be forced open. If my readers had been asked to sketch a coring barrel, they’d have been unable to do so. But it didn’t matter. It felt real, felt exotic,felt authoritative.

Finding details

That book also had a surprising amount of numerical detail.

What pressure does oil exert at the wellhead? What was the going rate per acre for land around the Signal Hill oil strike? How high was a gusher capable of throwing oil? What length were drill pipes?

But the book was also full of food details, transport details, military details.

All these things act as authenticators (“this guy knows what he’s talking about”) and as flavourings, lifting the whole text. Readers don’t in fact become expert on a place and time by reading fiction – but they feel as if they almost do. They get that excitement of new discovery.

Finding anecdotes

That oil book borrowed freely from life. The description of at least two of the oil-discoveries were based very closely on what actually happened. But often the details that really work are genuinely tiny – wholly immaterial to the story. So here, for example, is a piece of dialogue – an oilman telling a story (drawn from fact) about a recent incident:

“They were bringing pipes up, so one of the roughnecks had run up eighty foot to rack ’em as they came. But he musta lost a hold of the ladder or something, because the next thing I hear is a yell. Guy comes tumbling down from eight feet up, hits a beam in the derrick, spins over and lands on the pump shed, new tin roof, nice and springy. He looks at me. I looks at him. He says ‘Gotta cigarette?’ I only had my chew-tobacco, so I says, ‘No.’ He looks at me, real sad, and says, ‘Well, don’t just stand there. Go get a smoke for this dumb, broken-assed son-of-a-bitch.’”

That kind of loveliness, in my experience, comes more often from research than from pure imagination.

Genres other than historical fiction

Now I said, up top, that you should do your research even if your book doesn’t obviously demand it. And you should.

Let’s say your book is set in a location you know well – Berlin, London, New York, wherever. You still need to find the little bits of glitter that bring those places to life. Contrast these alternatives:

“They passed by a chunk of the old Berlin Wall, left standing as a reminder of how things were.”

“They passed by a chunk of the old Berlin Wall, graffitied and decaying.”

“A stump of the old Berlin Wall had been left standing. The old grey cement still bore its original graffiti. A spray of huge red-and-white magic mushrooms surrounding a man – Honecker? Brezhnev? – in a grey suit and a bewildered expression. The stump was only two panels wide and contained part of a slogan, ‘Wer macht …’ They passed by in the silence those memorials still created.”

Now, to be clear, any of those might be right for your book. Do you need to pass on fast through that moment, or do you need to dwell? That all depends on what weight you want to give it. But would your imagination come up with those magic mushrooms? The bewildered Honecker? I found those things by rooting around online. I don’t think I’d have come up with that idea myself. In fact, I didn’t find the Honecker and the mushrooms in the same image, but that doesn’t matter. Research is there to provoke the imagination. Your job is to go and hunt down those provocations.

If you’re writing about diamond trading in Antwerp, then learn about it. Not just the technicalities, but the details. How does a diamond get polished? How does the transport work? How do the bourses work? Find the details and pass them on.

Oh, and fantasy? You think that fantasy needs no research?

Well... the best fantasy always has its roots in something real. A place that’s just full of castles and princesses and magic seems unanchored in anything. A place that also has jerkins with horn buttons, and falconers with a variety of hoods for the birds, and haymaking done with scythes and ricks, and libraries cluttered with medieval French and degenerate Latin… that place you already half-believe in, so when the magic happens, you believe in that, too.

If there’s a general moral to these musings, it’s this: fiction is most powerful when it’s most specific. And your imagination has its limits. Research breaks those limits – and turns up jewels. Find them, use them, pass them on.

FEEDBACK FRIDAY / A calico flag

Dig out any passage from your book where a detail – or several details, or the whole passage – was inspired by some bit of reading or other research.

Give us the normal 250-300 words. If you want to tell us more about the research and how it embedded itself in your passage, then you be you – and give yourself a flower.

Please title your post in this format: title / genre / [anything else we need to know]. That will help others navigate a big old forum with speed. When you're ready, you can post your work here.

Til soon.

Harry

During the last few years, mentoring has become extremely popular. As a writer, editor and mentor myself, I’ve come to understand the important role that mentoring can play in supporting a writer’s journey. But I’ve also realised how it must be tailored to suit the writer’s character and needs. It’s definitely not a one-size-fits-all service. 

Choosing the right mentor – and building a great working relationship with them – takes time and care. And I’m purposely using the word ‘relationship’. In commissioning the service, you are making an investment in your mentor. And, of course, your mentor will invest their time and expertise. But for it to be a success, it also requires commitment from you both. In that sense, it’s more than a transaction. It’s a partnership. 

With this characterisation in mind, there are three fundamental questions to ask of yourself as you anticipate, shape and engage in a mentoring relationship. 

1. What are your ambitions as a writer?

A mentor can provide some insight into what I call the ‘writing life’. What are the realities of being a writer? Are your hopes realistic? What can you expect when you succeed… or don’t? What can it feel like?  

You may not have given much thought to such things, but these are all matters which can hinder or contribute to the more mechanical aspects of writing. You might want to secure an agent or a publishing agreement. You might want to share your life-story with friends and relations. You might want to be more productive, more efficient and less side-tracked by the distractions of life around you. You might want to earn a lot of money. 

Your mentor may challenge you to reflect on your expectations and support you as you define and refine your purpose and motivations as a writer.

2. What are your ambitions for your book and/or your writing practice? 

This is what I mean when I refer above to the ‘mechanical aspects’ of writing. Your mentor is a writer too. They’ll have studied writing, practiced it and learned from it. Want to understand how Show, Don’t Tell might work in your own writing? Your mentor can help you to identify opportunities to apply it. Unsure what narrative voice to use? You and your mentor can explore the pros and cons of different options. 

Perhaps you’ve one or more ideas for a book and have been struggling to know which project to pursue? One of my clients was torn between the urgency of a fictional idea that excited him, and the rugged practicality of writing about a subject area in which he was a world authority. Together, we found a way through his confusion.  

Or perhaps you’re facing a blank page, not knowing what – or how – to write? You wouldn’t be the first. Your mentor can help you explore and apply techniques that get you writing.  

With the right mentor, you can unlock the means to pursue your writing projects and enjoy the process.

3. What would you like to gain from a mentoring relationship? 

As you may have already begun to realise, the relationship with a mentor that I have described bears some similarity to that of a counsellor and a client. In such a framework, there are opportunities to share, explore and become aware of your insecurities, your frailties, your strengths and motivations. In doing so, there is the potential to grow and develop as a writer and to gain greater enjoyment and fulfilment from your writing practice. If that’s an attractive model, the relationship with your mentor will work best when you are both honest, trusting and committed. Sometimes, you may not like what you hear, but with a reflective mindset, you may benefit from it. 

Alternatively, you may have decided that you require support that is tailored around the mechanics of your writing practice. I have worked with clients who have sent me regular blocks of writing that can be discussed and developed. We may have come to know and like each other, but the focus has been on technique and productivity. 

And of course, you may want a relationship with someone who can share their knowledge of your preferred genre or market. Having specialised in all forms of non-fiction, I can offer an authoritative and informed perspective for writers in these areas. 

As in life, there are few if any rules about what makes a good relationship. However, it can certainly help to be honest not only about what you want, but also what you are prepared to commit. 

So, when you’re looking for the right mentor, ask for an initial, exploratory chat. Any mentor worth the investment will be happy to talk with you about your needs, preferences and character. It will give you both the opportunity to determine whether you’re right for each other. 

And having challenged yourself with the questions above, you’ll stand a much better chance of finding the mentor that’s meant for you. 

Work one-on-one with Paul Roberts or any of our expert writing mentors & book coaches. Our mentoring service is like a choose-your-own-adventure for writers. Pick a package that fits your needs, and use your hours however you like. Each package includes your mentor’s reading, editing, and any calls or video chats. Our mentors provide clear, actionable advice with warmth and encouragement. Find out more.

For many writers, querying literary agents can feel like shouting into the void, carefully writing a pitch, hitting send, and hoping it lands in the right inbox at the right time. That’s exactly why Jericho Writers Meet Your Match event was so popular: to make that process a little less mysterious, and a lot more human.

Across a 24-hour window, Premium Members shared their elevator pitches and genres on Townhouse, where a selection of literary agents could browse and request submissions. Alongside this, our team matched writers with agents we felt could be a strong fit for their work, giving them a clear and confident next step on their querying journey.

In total, we saw 337 pitches and 214 requests from agents. We were genuinely blown away by the quality on display!

Here’s what the winner, runners-up and shortlist had to say about taking part in Meet Your Match and what they gained from putting their work out there.

Duncan Munge, winner of Meet Your Match 2026

This is my second book, and last time, I really struggled with distilling it into a decent pitch. This time round, I decided that I wasn’t going to write anything that couldn’t be articulated in a sentence (I think inspired by one of Harry’s emails). So, it’s fair to say, the winning pitch for ‘Nothing Like the Truth’ has been there since the beginning. It’s an amazing feeling knowing that people seem to think it’s a good idea too. 

And so, my queries have been sent, and I’m trying to line up the Agent One-to-One. Fingers crossed they all like the next 73k words as much as they do that 20.

Ben Gould, second place in Meet Your Match 2026

I’m surprised and delighted to come second in Meet Your Match. As every writer knows, pitching is hard – the skills we use for writing novels don’t automatically make us good salespeople! Competitions like this offer an excellent opportunity for us to hone our pitches and get instant feedback from industry experts. Plus, it’s inspiring to see everybody else’s brilliant ideas. Thank you Jericho!

Karin Dahan, third place in Meet Your Match

Being part of Meet Your Match was such a rewarding experience. Not only did my pitch for Swiping Through LA reach industry professionals, but it also resulted in multiple agent requests. As the self-published author of Secrets We Burn (written under the pen name Florence Wren), I particularly appreciated the opportunity to receive feedback within hours, which is rare in both the querying and the self-publishing process.

Kris Williams, Meet Your Match shortlist

Preparing for and then entering the Meet Your Match event really helped me to refine and hone my pitch, based on advice and skills learnt from taking part in numerous Feedback Fridays.  By reducing it to its key ingredients, whilst making sure the stakes were front and centre, I was able to get to the core of the story efficiently and effectively.

Being matched with an agent was really useful for my forthcoming submission campaign, and reminded me how good Jericho’s Agent Match tool is.  The cherry on top, though, was having four agents ask to see more of my manuscript, not only confirming my pitch is working, but also giving me a real shot of motivation about my writing.    

Vicky Ellaway-Barnard, Meet Your Match shortlist

Without wanting to sound like a complete swot, entering the Meet Your Match event was a no-brainer because I already had my one line hook ready to go. Thank you, Harry Bingham, and your Elevator Pitches masterclass! Genuine top stuff. Receiving interest from five agents on the basis of that one line was quite honestly an exhilarating experience… the buzz still hasn’t worn off and it’s been over a week! Plus, it’s shown me that a) binging all the Jericho Writers masterclasses is totally worth it, b) it pays to be prepared, and c) sometimes you just have to put yourself out there and see what happens.

Emily McKeith, Meet Your Match shortlist

Taking part in this year's Meet Your Match really forced myself to look at the integral bones of my story and think about what its unique selling points are, and I really enjoyed the challenge of having to condense it into such few words. I’m at a stage now where I’m editing my draft, so getting matched has really made me think about getting ready to query. I’ve added a great name to my query list who I think is a great fit for my project when my submission package is finally ready. It has given me such a confidence boost about my idea that I will carry with me as I continue to write. 

Alice Hall, Meet Your Match shortlist

Meet Your Match was a great opportunity for me to get my pitch in front of agents. I was so excited to see that there was a positive response, and it has encouraged me to keep querying!

Tolu Kehinde, Meet Your Match shortlist

Meet Your Match was a wonderful opportunity to test out my recently re-worked novel pitch. Making it to the shortlist in spite of the numerous intriguing pitches I read on the site was validating and has given me more confidence in my ability to distill my novel’s idea to its heart. 

The process was well-explained and the event running over the course of a day meant people across timezones had reasonable windows to submit their pitches. I also found the agent matches instructive and the pitches being public meant I could learn from my colleagues and observe which submissions generated interest from multiple agents. I am grateful to the Jericho Writers Team and participating agents for their hard work in making the event possible and for shortlisting my pitch. 

Anne Goodwin, Meet Your Match shortlist

Miss Eyre’s Wild Ambition is set in a society where a woman’s success depends on hooking a suitable husband. My decade-long hunt for an agent feels almost as awkward. Following a fruitless first round of queries for this current manuscript, and a one-to-one with an agent commending the writing while doubting its marketability, Meet Your Match provided the impetus to polish my pitch and the opportunity to test it. So I was delighted when an agent already on my wish list invited me to submit. Conscious of the high standard of entries, and that most participating agents bypassed mine, I was amazed to be shortlisted. Thanks to Team Jericho for this wonderful confidence boost and good luck to everyone else on this arduous quest for The One.

Daniella Byroo, Meet Your Match shortlist

Distilling the premise of your book into fifty words is challenging, but is so useful to ensure you really know what your hook is. Getting positive engagement from an agent was a bright spot in what can feel like a relentlessly bleak querying journey. It was also useful to see how hard it must be for agents as I saw so many fantastic pitches from other authors on pitch day!

Last week’s email was entitled, No – a reference to Jack Reacher’s norm-breaking plain-speaking under pressure.

Today, we’re on an Easter-y Yes.

The fact is that writing is a tremendously hard activity. Just off the top of my head, if you’re a pro author (with an agent and a publisher), then:

You write alone.

You have to put a vast amount of work in before you can sensibly even get feedback on your work. Indeed, while some agents or publishers may be helpful in looking at early drafts, it’s one hell of a coin-toss. I once showed an early draft of a book to a publisher (a draft that I was writing under contract, with the subject matter of that book already fully agreed) and the publisher had a total meltdown and ended up asking for a completely different book. Yes, it so happened that my editor was leaving the firm, and she had probably not ‘sold’ our jointly conceived project adequately in house – but the one losing out was me, not her and not the publisher.

The quality of feedback you get is desperately variable. (Something we are keenly aware of when we recruit editors for our feedback services, and something we’re keenly aware of when we monitor all our editorial output.)

Being a writer means living from hit to hit. A writer can literally go from selling 250,000 copies of one book to maybe 10% that figure with the next one. And of course, most writers never even get close to selling quarter of a million books .

Writing pay isn’t just unpredictable; it’s low. The various surveys that purport to estimate writing income are so poorly put together that their various conclusions are basically junk. But is writing badly paid? Yes, of course. It always has been.

You can be excellent at your job and still struggle to put together work of dependably high quality. The reason is simply that some ideas turn out to work really well; others not so well. You don’t really know until the work is so close to complete that you might as well complete it anyway. And, of course, since it probably takes you a year to write a book, you can’t really junk that work, even if you’re tempted to do so. A painter, by contrast, might work for a day or two on a painting, then think, ‘Nah, this isn’t working,” and just scrap it. We don’t have that ability.

Agents are generally pretty steady (once you have them and are making an income for them), but publishers come and go like migratory waterfowl. You may well have had your book acquired by one editor who absolutely loved it, darling – but then find yourself being published by someone who, though perfectly professional, isn’t really the person you’d have picked to do this with.

On which topic – you have vastly little power, insight or control. Let’s say you don’t love a cover. Your editor tells you that it’s great; that it’s just the kind of thing the supermarkets love; that the sales team is massively supportive. Well you still don’t like the cover, but what do you know? You’ve never sold books to supermarkets. So you say yes, please, and thank you very much, and do please go ahead, and then the book doesn’t get bought up in volume by the supermarkets, and you’re left wondering whether you were right all along. Multiply that little eddy of activity by about 20 or 30 times and that’s what it’s like being published by a big (and capable) company.

And, of course, most books fail. That’s not me being snarky: it’s industry economics. Most books underperform the publishers’ budgetary forecasts. But, of the ones that out-perform the forecasts, enough will do so well that they repair the losses of the others, and then some.

Communications are often patchy. Publishers are often – almost always – nice, but they’re not necessarily honest. Far too often, a publisher will avoid conveying a hard truth that the author really needs to know, because the publisher is worried (correctly) that the author will be upset by it. So they don’t say the thing that they ought to say. So the author is 5x more upset down the road, when they do eventually learn the thing.

Professional standards are patchy, on Planet Agent especially. Yes, most agents are dedicated and superb at what they do, but agents generally don’t think of themselves as having any deep obligation to non-clients (which means they often fail in basic comms and courtesies.) Additionally, and in smaller agencies especially, pressures of time and work can mean that even clients get treated poorly (and often abruptly, and often after an extended period of more comms).

That’s hardly an exhaustive list, of course, and the pressures on the not-yet-published writer are in many ways greater – especially if you are having to explain to your partner quite why you are spending so much time on this not-yet-money-earning activity. And if it comes to that, you are also having to explain to yourself why you are spending so much time on this activity, where prospects of success can seem so itsy-bitsy, eeny-weeny, wrong-end-of-a-telescope small.

But all that is really by way of intro to my Easter-y Yes.

Because writing is hard –

And because it’s really hard to write creatively and well if you are feeling under pressure or stressed or conflicted or anxious –

Then give yourself permission to do whatever you need to do about those feelings.

That could be:

• Putting the writing aside for a while, as you turn your attention to the real-world issues that are causing stress.
• Putting down Project A so you can turn to Project B.
• Accepting that you are primarily writing for yourself and your own joy, with publication as a desired, but not essential, outcome.
• Turning to the Townhouse community to seek help and advice.
• Or something else.

The point really is that self-forgiveness is essential. Life is hard. Writing is hard. Sometimes, you just need to let something drop, even if that means your Publication Plan has to have a few extra weeks or months inserted into it somewhere.

Just give yourself that big fat YES of permission to do what you need, for now.

And – use Townhouse. A community of writers completely understands whatever pressures or doubts you may have. It’s utterly friendly and full of wisdom. It’s like a hot sausage roll on a cold night, only one with much more knowledge of the publishing industry.

FEEDBACK FRIDAY / Elderflower mousse

In an Easter-y yes mood, just show us a passage that pleases you to a ridiculous extent. Something which you read, then feel all pink & giggly afterwards.

As always, we need title, genre, any context, and 250-300 words of your most delicious text. Like an elderflower mousse, eaten with a spoonful of gooseberry.

Please title your post in this format: title / genre / [anything else we need to know]. That will help others navigate a big old forum with speed. When you're ready, you can post your work here.

Til soon.

Harry

The world of children’s literature is a wonderful place for young readers to explore. Equally wonderful are the worlds inside the books. But how, as writers of fiction for 8-12 year olds, can we create a world so rich, believable and memorable that it will live on in children’s minds long after they have finished the story? 

Tip 1: Space and place

The first aspect you might consider is the physical landscape. Woods and wild places with an unsettling hint of magic are enduringly popular, for good reason: forests have a long history as contentious spaces where it’s hard to see what’s coming – or what’s behind you! Brilliant ground for stories, especially those that feature an outsider on a quest.  

You might decide to set your story in a real, familiar place – a city or town you know well or a favourite holiday spot. There’s much to be said for this approach (so long as it fits the story) as it cuts down on research. While often fun, research can lead you down so many fascinating paths that you forget to finish the manuscript and it can even entrench the tendency to procrastinate that haunts many writers. 

Tip 2: Can you see it, feel it, smell it?

When writing landscape, whether real or imagined, it’s important to use all the senses. What does the grass sound like when it moves in the wind? What kind of bricks are used for the buildings and what do they feel like? What does the city smell like in summer as opposed to winter? It can be helpful to create a colour palette for your work, to help you see your setting clearly through your characters’ eyes. This is closely tied to the season(s) you choose to work with, and the weather you might invoke to amplify a dramatic moment or signal a period of calm.  

If you’re creating a unique, original or magical world, all bets are off – snow may be blue, soil might burn human skin – the important thing is to construct it with logic and consistency.

Tip 3: Make it with a map

Many children’s writers love literary maps but worry about their own artistic skills. Sketching out the environment for your story, however roughly, can be a great help when it comes to aspects like scale, distance, proportion and position. The ‘quality’ of the drawing doesn’t matter as it’s for your eyes only.  

A map can help you with your storytelling in so many different ways: how many days will it take your heroine to reach that castle? How wide is the river she must cross? Do all the place names work when viewed as set?  

You can apply this to the built environment too. Home is the bedrock of life for young children so bringing to life a fictional home with lots of warmth and detail will engage them. You might draw the rooms, indicate where the staircase is, sketch how many windows there are. And of course add unique, memorable and funny details to amuse them (and you). 

Tip 4: Create cultural treasures

The physical world is a great place to start, but a richly imagined story setting has many other dimensions. These are sometimes called ‘cultural treasures’ and are all the things that make up a real society and community – whether contemporary, historical or one you’ve invented. This includes everything from belief systems to recipes; festivals to fashions; lullabies, legends and songs; jokes with a punchline that everyone knows; and sports and pastimes.  

Then there’s the serious stuff: medicines, laws, rules, punishments and the whole business of who’s in charge (and who wants to be!). The best plan is to create a tapestry of cultural treasures but weave them into your text stitch by stitch rather than explaining things directly.

Tip 5: What's on the table?

Food is so important in childhood that it deserves a special mention when considering worldbuilding. It’s good to think about the rituals and customs around food that’s eaten every day; on special occasions such as a feast; at communal celebrations or major events; and in times of hardship.  

This could change as your characters move through their world, especially on first encounters or moments of danger: golden plates that shine like the sun in the palace you’ve longed to see, rock-hard ship’s biscuits on a scary maiden voyage, sour berries in that corner of the forest where you’re trying so hard not to be found. 

Tip 6: Build a happy reader!

A richly-developed story world encourages a sense of glorious immersion. For newly confident readers – children who’ve recently graduated from the enchanting world of highly-illustrated picture books and early readers – this offers lasting benefits. 

As a Middle Grade author, you’re conjuring a fictional world largely with words. When this is done really well something magical occurs, almost like alchemy: it feels real! This encourages children to read on, even if or when the work of ‘decoding’ the text feels challenging. It’s a vital part of encouraging and supporting children to read for pleasure. This in turn opens up opportunities to imagine, as a pre-teen, what it’s like to be someone else, perhaps someone from a different culture, era, realm or country. And this helps develop empathy – a key ingredient in the recipe for happiness not only for book-loving individuals, but society too. 

So let’s hear it for Middle Grade authors – published and aspiring – who are helping to build confident readers, one story world at a time. 

Kate is currently working on a middle grade novel set in a snowy, gently magical wonderland and is taking her own advice about setting! If you'd like advice and support with your own writing project, Kate is available for one-to-one mentoring.

She will also be leading an interactive workshop on ‘Worldbuilding and Setting for Children’s Authors’ at the 2026 London Festival of Writing on 13 June. Fine out more here.