Breaking through the barriers

Over the last few years, there has been a lot of talk about diversifying publishing. Initiatives have been launched and schemes invested in. This is great – but is it actually working? Are these drives making a difference to the sorts of people getting entry-level roles in the industry? And do the people creating the schemes really understand the pressures and restrictions that working-class applicants face and what would provide an accessible first rung on the ladder? 

I grew up on a farm in the Midlands. Neither of my parents went to university. My concept of life outside my area was based on knowledge I found through books, films and music. I worked harder than most of my peers to get into a selective university to study history of art – and like many provincial teenagers with dreams of a creative life, I chose to study for my degree in London.

Moving to London came with a heap of financial pressures. Despite being a recipient of a full student loan, I worked part-time jobs alongside my studies. While the other undergraduates on my course spent holidays undertaking unpaid internships, volunteering at publishing houses and other arts institutions, I worked jobs in retail, behind bars and in the launderette in my village; roles completely unrelated to anything I had dreamed of doing after graduating. I did well in these jobs but nobody in publishing has had a chance to find out more about my work ethic, reliability and resourcefulness as I can’t seem to get beyond the application stage.

As someone who was seemingly the perfect candidate for accessibility programs, how has this so-called revolution in recruiting for publishing completely confounded me? 

Since graduating in June, I have amassed enough publishing job and internship rejections to believe there must be something fundamentally wrong with me as a potential publishing employee. As someone who was seemingly the perfect candidate for accessibility programs, how has this so-called revolution in recruiting for publishing completely confounded me? While my middle-class peers are breezing into jobs in the creative sector, I remain on the outside feeling just that tiny bit not good enough. No matter how hard I have worked, how good my grades are, or how passionate about literature I am, I don’t seem to be the right sort of person.

Not having any office experience still seems to be a barrier to entry. I can’t afford to take up an unpaid internship and no office would have been able to offer shift work alongside my degree. My jobs in retail haven’t given me essential networking insights, and closing shifts in countryside pubs don’t seem to convince anyone to take a chance on me.

Does it really matter if someone’s work experience hasn’t been in an office? Any graduate, especially one who studied through a pandemic, has managed complex hybrid schedules, workflow systems changing overnight, and relentless communication issues with tutors that hardly knew us. 

So what does this working-class book-obsessed, publishing wannabe suggest would make a difference. Here are some thoughts:

1. Those of us having to work non-publishing jobs to pay our way while still holding out hope for that elusive opportunity, could take annual leave to gain experience. To this end, maybe some internships could be built around the idea of one-day-a-month schemes, or advertising for people to help cover evening and weekend events.
2. If you make a claim on social media that your DMs are open to anyone – especially those of us from "different" backgrounds, please don’t ignore messages. This kind of ghosting is especially dispiriting.
3. Shadow roles: if it’s impossible to create internships for reasons of resource/space, then maybe create multiple shadowing opportunities – just days where we could come in and observe an acquisitions meeting, a cover meeting, an editorial meeting, a sales presentation. Nobody has to even speak to us  – but it would give an essential chance at getting publishing experience onto a CV, that might end up breaking though the barrier.

It’s useful to remember that maybe working in an office isn’t as complicated and challenging as you imagine it is; and who knows, maybe pulling pints, doing service washes and opening up an East End clothes shop day in day out for years, might have something to show you about the world, about readers and about books. After all, it takes more than just office experience to produce a bestseller, to make a mark on people from all walks of life, to be relatable, understanding and accessible...right?

This Friday’s FutureBook conference will see The Bookseller’s first ever working-class issue published, and its guest editor Natasha Carthew will lead a panel discussion on the themes raised in the magazine along with The Bookseller’s senior reporter Lauren Brown. To get your in-person or digital pass, book now.