From literary agent to teacher and back again

Why Louise Buckley walked away from publishing and dared to return.

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Long before literary agent and freelance editor Louise Buckley from HSLA offered me representation, I followed her on social media and had seen from her profile and posts that she was a busy mum who lived with a hidden disability.

I was also intrigued, as a teacher myself, by her journey from bookshelves to blackboard and back again. Particularly as I was dreaming of bouncing from the classroom into the world of publishing with my debut novel.

In this interview, Louise unfurls her roadmap from teenager to agent. Alongside the shining stars of working for a Big 5 publishing house and being involved with bestsellers, there is redundancy, a career pivot from agenting forced by a terrible life curve-ball and her MS diagnosis.

Photo by Dave LZ on Unsplash

If you’re a writer, head to Louise’s Substack for expert advice and insights into publishing. Read about how I’m leaping off the author fear ladder and enjoying being on submission with my debut novel.

Q- Describe your journey from teenager to literary agent.

As a teenager, I wanted to be a teacher but over time it became my backup option as I realised what I really wanted was to work with books.

I didn’t have a clear career plan when I went to university, but I knew I didn’t want to be a librarian, and I didn’t want to go straight into teaching. I wanted to study what I loved so I chose English Literature. While it isn’t the only route, it is a common pathway for people entering publishing.

Even after finishing university, I still didn’t know what I wanted to do. My dad had had an awful experience as a teacher, which put me off that road. So, I applied to do a Master’s in Creative Writing. Partly because I had a little money I’d been left and partly because it would give me a little more time to figure things out.

The MA ended up being useful. It helped develop my writing skills, which are essential in publishing, and gave me the space to think about my career.

From that point on, I got serious. I created a mega spreadsheet and applied for every publishing internship I could find.

As I’m not from a particularly privileged background, I couldn’t afford to work for free for very long. I prioritised internships which at least reimbursed travel expenses. I ended up at Walker Books (children’s publishing), did three weeks there and absolutely loved it.

As I applied for other publishing roles, I landed a bookselling job at Waterstones in Covent Garden, which was a wonderful experience. Being surrounded by books, interacting with readers, serving celebrities.

The shop floor opened my eyes to the fact that commercial books were the biggest seller, and I began to question my belief from uni that only literary fiction was ‘good’. It also gave me a broader understanding of the industry - so valuable later on, especially in interviews.

Eventually, I got an editorial assistant role working for DK who produced travel guidebooks, but people switched from buying physical guidebooks to using the internet and before I knew it, I was made redundant.

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Such a huge blow.

I remember leaving early, walking to London Bridge to meet my now husband, and just sobbing. I thought my publishing career was over.

I knew how competitive the industry was. I’d seen jobs with over 300 applicants.

But, I was still young enough to apply for entry-level jobs and eventually, all my experience (the internship, Waterstones, DK) helped me land an interview at Pan Macmillan. I later found out my open-mindedness and willingness to learn about sci-fi and fantasy is what got me the job.

That job laid the groundwork for everything I do now as an agent. I stayed there for five years and learned so much. The role cemented my future in publishing.

Credit - Clare Hughes Photography

Q: What are you proudest of in your career so far?

There are a few books I can point to which I know wouldn’t have had the same success if I hadn’t been part of their journey and it’s deeply satisfying. Publishing is subjective, and while someone else might have picked up those books, they also might not have.

As an agent, a lot is out of your hands, but if I hadn’t taken a chance on an author in the first place, their book might never have found its way into the world. That’s the real privilege of working in publishing, being part of a moment where something meaningful begins.

Although I’ve had authors I’ve championed sell at auction in the UK or go on to be bestsellers in the US, I’m proud of all the books and authors I’ve backed, regardless of how big and visible their success is.

Q: Did you feel the pressure of expectation after being made redundant so early in your publishing career?

I’ve been lucky my parents never put any expectations on me or my brother. If anything, they were always laid-back and supportive, just wanting us to be happy doing what we loved. The pressure came from me. Attending a highly-selective girls grammar school had more of an impact than I realised at the time.

I barely scraped through the 11+ entrance exam, and when you’re repeatedly told by teachers that you’re a ‘B student, not an A student’ you internalise it. Labels stick. You look around and think, ‘I’m not like them. I’m not top of the class. I’m just lucky to be here.’ It gave me a real sense that I had something to prove.

And in a way, that internal pressure to prove something worked. Insecurity made me determined and fiercely motivated in my twenties. I had to climb the ladder, had to get promoted, had to make my first acquisition before someone else did.

But now, I’m older and I’ve taken that pressure off myself. I’m a parent. I live with MS. I just don’t have that same need to prove myself. I can still be excellent at my job without burning out trying to be the best. I work hard, but I don’t tie my worth to external achievement anymore.

Health and balance come first now. I’m proud of this shift.

Photo by Max van den Oetelaar on Unsplash

Q: How did the twists and turns in your life roadmap impact your career?

After the birth of my second child, I took the decision to leave agenting to care for my son as he was born with some medical challenges. By the time he turned two, he was finally doing better but I didn’t realise at the time what a huge emotional, mental, and physical toll it had taken on me. Looking back, I now see how stress laid the groundwork for the development of my autoimmune disease.

Teaching had always been my back-up plan, so I enrolled in an on-the-job teacher training programme. After everything we’d been through as a family, I went from one extremely stressful situation into another. I knew teaching would be tough, but I wasn’t prepared for how awful that year would be.

As a trainee teacher I was vulnerable and needed support, but instead the headteacher took a dislike to me and it was hugely traumatic. After an official investigation which involved other trainees, the headteacher left the profession.

At the end of my training year, on a family holiday to York, I woke up to the left side of my body feeling like it was on fire. Not painful, exactly, but burning in a way which felt wrong. I ignored it, hoped it was nothing, and tried to enjoy the rest of the trip.

But when we got home to Hastings, I took my kids into the sea and noticed I couldn’t feel my left leg properly. Not like I could my right. With a family history of MS, the GP made a link but couldn’t suggest a diagnosis from a single episode.

So, I pushed it to the back of my mind.

I started my first proper teaching job in September, and I was soon exhausted. There was no shared planning, no curriculum on the system, no one to mentor me in the way I should have been mentored. The children had very high needs, and I was trying to hold it all together.

Then the same burning sensation started up in my left arm and shoulder. It was deeply worrying, especially as I’m left-handed. But this time I knew: two distinct flare-ups, two different areas of the body. Enough for an MS diagnosis.

The neurologist agreed to do a lumbar puncture. It was horrible, but it confirmed what I feared: the markers of MS were present in my spinal fluid. Later, MRIs confirmed the disease had been developing since I gave birth to my son. Which makes sense, as that was when everything began to shift for me, physically and emotionally.

I knew I’d made a terrible mistake with my career. I never should have left publishing. I should have just taken a sabbatical, but I thought, ‘Well, I’ve made the decision now. I must stick it out.’

It was a hard year. Teaching while dealing with a flare-up on my arm was physically draining. I wasn’t well supported in my school, which made the whole experience incredibly stressful.

All I could think about was wanting to return to publishing, where things felt more stable, where the people were nicer, and where I could have a better work-life balance.

Photo by Laura Kapfer on Unsplash

Q: So, you took the difficult decision to leave teaching and move back into publishing?

As soon as I made the decision to leave teaching, everything eased up. I still get occasional flare-ups now, but they're much less severe, like a spot on my elbow that burns for five minutes and goes away.

Thankfully, it doesn’t have a major impact on my daily life. I’m very fortunate, considering what I’ve seen other people go through with MS, especially my mum.

I could focus on getting back to work in publishing where I felt more supported. I just wanted to return to something familiar, something that would allow me to focus on my life outside of work and be around my family more.

Q: How did you feel, knowing your teaching dream had ended in this way?

I had a huge amount of sadness. On the one hand, a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t need to keep pushing myself into something causing so much stress. But at the same time, there was still a nagging feeling of failure. I had committed to this path, and it didn’t work out the way I had hoped.

I had changed my life to become a teacher, and the actual teaching, I enjoyed. I loved working with the children, and know I made a difference in their lives, especially working in such poor communities. From a welfare perspective, I felt like I made a big impact. So, when I realised it wasn’t going to work out, it felt like a huge loss.

I also went through about eight months of therapy, which was brilliant. I’d recommend it to anyone. I initially went in to talk through and come to terms with my diagnosis, but as I started therapy in January of my second year of teaching, it also helped me process my awful experience as a teacher and come to terms with the realisation I needed to leave.

A difficult decision, but ultimately the right one for me. I needed to listen to my body, my health, and my mental well-being, and move on.

Q: Perhaps that sadness was grief for a version of yourself you will never be?

Absolutely. As a teenager, I had this vision teaching would be my path. And when I had to leave, I grieved that version of myself, the version who had imagined a different future.

It's hard to admit to yourself, but it’s part of growing older. You learn there are versions of yourself which will never exist, or at least not the way you imagined. And I had to come to terms with that.

I felt the universe nudge me back to publishing. When I reframed it as this in my mind, the transition became easier. So, within the sadness and grief, there was a sense of peace in returning to what I was originally meant to do. It’s a process of accepting life doesn’t always follow the path we expect, but sometimes, that’s okay.

Q: What lessons have you learnt on your journey so far?

You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people. I’ve learned my version of success is much more centred around living a happy, fulfilled life than about achieving societal expectations.

We often think success is about climbing some ladder or meeting some standard set by other people, but I’ve found real success for me is more about contentment and peace of mind.

I’ve also learnt the importance of perseverance. When you experience setbacks, it doesn’t mean those doors are closed to you forever. It’s important to keep going. When I started out in my career, I could’ve easily just applied for less competitive jobs than publishing, something I knew I’d get. But I didn’t. I had enough confidence in myself to know I had a wealth of experience to draw from, and it was worth giving it a go. Even when things were tough, I kept pushing forwards.

Is your life roadmap full of twists and turns too? I love hearing from my readers, so share your thoughts in the comments.

Read about my author journey to signing with Louise and learn my Query Stats and Hacks