2025 in Publishing and Me: Lessons, Struggles, and Insights

If I had to sum up 2025 in just three words, because one could never capture the chaos, they would be turbulent, revealing, unstoppable.

This year taught me a lot about what I truly want from my career. Nothing is ever set in stone, because until you dive in, those light bulb moments remain frustratingly out of reach. It was a rude awakening to realize that the world is not all sunshine and flowers, as much as I had hoped it might be. My first big question was whether to work abroad or stay closer to home. I still want to go abroad, I just have no idea where. New York always seemed perfect in theory, but reality has a way of grounding even the most glamorous dreams. Safety, practicality, and sense all have to be considered, and suddenly small towns in Canada or perhaps Paris in France seemed just as appealing. The truth is, the UK will always be my home, yet my heart is scattered somewhere across the world, and I am still trying to figure out exactly where it wants to land.

The second realisation I had this year was figuring out exactly where in publishing I wanted to make my mark. It took time, and rightly so, because I did not want to rush into a decision without fully understanding the landscape. When I first started exploring this career, I was absolutely certain that editorial was my calling. Development editor, I told myself, was the title I was destined for. Then I flirted with the idea of becoming an agent, even drafting what my own agency might look like, until I realised I could never, and would never, want to poach authors from existing agents.

What I truly wanted was to be the third-party professional that agents rely on, someone who could add value in subrights and publicity. To get there, I had to take a step back, view publishing through the lens of a consumer, and ask myself what currently frustrates me and what I would like to see more of. That led me to untangle the intricate web of interconnecting departments within publishing. Soon, it became clear that no department operates in isolation, and to achieve my goal, I will need to collaborate with many different teams on a daily basis. The thought of navigating that complex, interconnected ecosystem is not intimidating — it is exhilarating.

This year, I continued growing my bookish Instagram account and finally hit some milestones I had been aiming for. I got noticed, reposted, shared, and even had a post liked by none other than Ana Huang, my favourite author. I transformed my account from what could have been an insufferable (joking) book influencer page into a kind of hypothesis-testing lab, and it actually worked. The metrics may be modest, but that has never been the point. I also got reposted by Sav R. Miller and Tessa Bailey, among others, built connections with other bookish accounts, and had a lot of fun learning the ins and outs of the algorithm. Safe to say, I am not aiming to be a traditional book influencer, but I will always love talking about and sharing books, and that will never change.

I continued growing my PaperPagesPR account, and on November 4th, I launched this new blog, PaperChapters, to showcase my industry knowledge and give recruiters something to notice when I appeared on their applications. Running this blog has given me both purpose and momentum. I keep a well-organized list of post ideas, but the spontaneous ones often end up being my most popular. In just under eight weeks, PaperChapters has already gained remarkable traction, proving that sometimes the best results come from a mix of planning and a little creative impulse.

LinkedIn has become an unexpectedly useful tool this year. I’ll admit, it can feel a bit gimmicky, and logging on rarely sparks excitement. Yet it has its moments, like when I tracked down the Talent Acquisition Manager at Hachette and sent a cold email — which, to my surprise, actually received a reply. It turns out, LinkedIn is more than just polished profiles and buzzwords. It can be a strategic move if you know how to use it. That said, it is important to manage your expectations, because when I first started out, I thought it would instantly change my career. That impact is still pending, but patience is part of the process.

Publishing has remained a creative and immersive industry this year, as it does every year, yet I have observed the most noticeable shifts during what has been my toughest year. Some trends have been truly remarkable, demonstrating innovation and an acute awareness of reader desires, while others have been less inspiring. In the romance sector, for example, social media dominance has amplified certain tropes to near saturation, with books often trending more for their Instagram appeal than their narrative depth. Debut authors have broken through in unexpected ways, leveraging online communities and reader engagement to establish loyal followings. I have also recognised more agents to add to my shelf, alongside Kim Brower, such as Thao Lee, and I have noticed some of my discovered indie authors now under agent management, making me keen to see where their success will go. Adaptations have risen significantly this year, with The Summer I Turned Pretty series finale creating so much buzz that it set a new high standard, and the announcement of the movie had everyone on the edge of their seats. I am equally thrilled for the upcoming The Love Hypothesis movie, as well as The Housemaid. Between rising agents, adaptation excitement, and the constant churn of trends, it has been a year of remarkable activity and transformation in the publishing world.

2025 has been a busy body, constantly demanding attention, throwing surprises at every turn, and refusing to let a dull moment slip by.

Do I have any predictions for how the world of books will look in 2026? A few, though the publishing landscape has a way of surprising even the most careful observers. I expect the rise of adaptations to continue, with more beloved series making the leap to screens, creating buzz and setting higher standards for storytelling. Social media will remain a driving force, shaping trends and giving debut authors the chance to break through in ways that were impossible a decade ago. I anticipate more indie authors transitioning into agent representation, and a continued focus on reader engagement, authenticity, and innovative marketing strategies. Ultimately, 2026 will likely be another year of evolution and experimentation, where creativity meets strategy, and where the books that capture hearts are those that understand both their audience and the changing world around them.

I cannot wait.

Job hunting is tough; there’s no sugarcoating it. It took me five months just to land a retail role at Marks & Spencer, and even then, it was only a Christmas temp position, which wrapped up with my final shift on Christmas Eve. The job came with its own fair share of complications, and of course, I was the one left to navigate them all. A lot of research, a lot of self-teaching, and a lot of lessons learned went into this process, and job searching has been marginally better this year, mainly because I managed to land a few interviews instead of none at all.

Going back to my retail job, I’m very sad to be honest. Spending less time at home has become necessary, as what were meant to be limited and temporary additions have turned into full-time presences that create unnecessary noise, magnify small issues, and test my patience. I would much rather deal with those challenges in a professional setting where I am at least being paid. I am genuinely hoping that January brings a job opportunity early in the new year, allowing me to refocus on myself. After the passing of my mother, the two most important people in my life are now my father and me, and that clarity has reshaped my priorities.

I had three interviews at HarperCollins this year after facing a string of rejections, and while I didn’t land the roles, the experience was invaluable. In total, I applied for four publishing internships: two at Hachette through Creative Access, where I was long-listed for both before ultimately being rejected; The Scheme 2026 with Penguin Random House, where I made it to the short-list but didn’t progress past the HireVue interview stage; and finally, HarperCollins itself. At HarperCollins, I got onto the virtual assessment day, which included a welcome talk, a 20-minute interview with two panel members, and a timed one-hour task. We were due to hear back before December 16, and as I write this on December 5, I have a strong feeling I won’t be moving forward—I'll report back after the 16th.

That said, I took the initiative to cold email several publishing professionals, including a Talent Acquisition Manager at Hachette. After some frustration with repeated setbacks, I was thrilled to receive a reply, which I was told is extremely rare. We had a successful and reassuring meeting last week, and while it doesn’t guarantee a job, it means I’m officially on their radar. If you want to see exactly how this rollercoaster felt from my perspective, you can check out my LinkedIn post.

Assessment day itself was a learning experience. I progressed to day two, which included a 15-minute presentation and a 30-minute interview. Although I didn’t move forward, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, giving me clarity about the direction I want to take and the professional skills I still need to develop.

I would like to think I have done a fair amount of self-reflecting this year. I have talked about it on almost every social platform imaginable, yet it is only now that I feel the deeper, bone level realisations settling in, the regrets I can finally name, and the hopeful thoughts I am allowing myself to hold for the future. I am twenty-five, friends, and as much as I used to roll my eyes at the whole frontal lobe developing idea, I must admit there is some truth hiding in it. The things that used to rattle me feel strangely small now, and somehow in the middle of all the chaos, I am genuinely excited for whatever comes next. Even if 2026 tries to become a re run of 2025, I am hoping, with everything I have, that it will be the year I finally get to love.

In a post I wrote for this blog titled When Letting Go Becomes Self-Care I opened up about body image and how complicated it can be. If I am honest, I wish I had spoken less, trusted less, and minded my own path a little more. I am finally learning how to do that now that life has revealed its true colours. Losing my mum changed everything. It made her words about relying on people and how quickly they can shift feel painfully real, lessons I never wanted to understand the hard way.

What I have learned is that it is never too late to set boundaries and rebuild yourself with intention. It is difficult, of course, because it is much easier to slip back into old patterns that feel as familiar as a soft pair of jeans. But genuine growth rarely happens in comfort. It arrives through hurt, through truth, and through the moments that require you to choose yourself even when it feels unfamiliar. The ache becomes the teacher, and the lesson becomes the version of you that finally feels like home.

I stepped back into the world of work after years away, still carrying grief like an unwelcome backpack, and yes, I cried through the first three shifts at M&S. Completely normal, completely fine, because even though I would have rather done anything else, I still showed up. Having a job did not erase the heartache, and not having one did not ease it either, yet the experience pushed me harder to leave retail behind and chase the career I truly want. My determination is iron-clad and refusing to quit.

Retail taught me an unexpected lesson: no matter the industry, connecting with your audience is everything. Standing on the till, which I genuinely love because it puts me face to face with people, you quickly learn their moods, their frustrations, and the little things they love. That skill, understanding what makes someone tick, is pure gold for publishing. You cannot sell a book to someone who does not want it, and knowing why is enough reason to get out of bed and make a difference in the world of books. Resilience and defiance at their finest, like a devil and an angel wrestling for the throne, and somehow, I am here for every minute of it.

The final question is, where do I see myself in 2026? I picture myself as part of a warm, collaborative family at a respected literary agency somewhere in the world. My client list is filled with the authors I adore, and my inbox is buzzing with emails and calls as I coordinate the best in publicity and subrights, responding as promptly as humanly possible. Life feels good, books feel even better, and I can finally breathe a little alongside a close-knit group of friends, a slowly blossoming social life, and someone I can call a partner waiting somewhere out there. My body, mind, and soul are slowly aligning with the life I want. Perhaps not everything will fall perfectly into place in 2026, but it is the year I take the lessons, teachings, and determination from 2025 to turn this vision into a reality, step by step.

Bye 2025, you were a bumpy road, full of twists, rocky starts, and unexpected turns. I feel like you have been laying the foundation for a brighter, smoother, and happier 2026. As always, don’t forget to hop through all my socials, which you can find on the Let’s Connect page. This is my final see you between the pages of 2025. I’ll be reading my way into 2026.

 Happy New Year, everyone. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the year, ready for whatever adventures come next.