I’m at the US Book Show this week, where yesterday I attended a panel titled #BookTok: Inside the Creator Economy, moderated by TikTok’s culture and education partnerships lead, Karen Kang.
As with other panels I’ve attended on TikTok that involved company reps from TikTok and successful creators, the questions and discussion remained sunny and optimistic, focused on the opportunity the platform presents and positive qualities of social media and community engagement. You won’t hear questions or rumors that BookTok is in decline and certainly not any intellectual critique (e.g., as a writer and critic recently wrote, often the stronger the reader’s therapeutic identification with the protagonist, the more recommendable the book on BookTok). And at TikTok-related panels over the years, the core guidance hasn’t really changed: TikTok values authenticity, and no one likes the hard sell.
Nevertheless, the two panelists offered insightful perspectives from both sides of the publishing spectrum: Felicity Vallence, director of digital marketing at Penguin Young Readers (Penguin Teen joined BookTok in October 2019), representing a publisher engaging on the platform with both readers and BookTok influencers; and Steph Pilavin (@starrysteph), a BookTok influencer engaging with readers and collaborating with publishers.
A publisher on BookTok is not there to contribute as a reader and shouldn’t behave as one, Vallence said. Rather, a publisher should offer entertainment or helpful information that doesn’t interrupt conversations already taking place. The cardinal rule is to be in conversation and not behave as a catalog of books; otherwise, people will just scroll past your account as if it were an ad. Vallence discussed the publisher as having a three-pronged approach: to post content to their own channel, to help authors with their channels, and to work with creators like Pilavin, to get the right books into their hands.
Penguin’s commitment to producing original content is significant. Vallence says even videos that look the most “dumb or stupid” can take an hour of thoughtful strategic planning; people underestimate that it’s real work. (She added that blooper reels—which they always keep—outperform the polished planned video every time.) Their north star: Is this actually good content, or am I trying to sell a book? Hard selling is off-putting; again, audiences want to be informed and entertained and have conversations in the comments with their friends. When authors visit Penguin’s offices, they try to do some TikTok content together in-house, and the best ones are typically unexpected skits (like throwing water in someone’s face—a staged drama) and not a straight pitch.
Comments are everything on TikTok—a sign of life. Vallence actively fosters reaction (but not rage-baiting, she emphasized) and feels sad when the comments section is quiet. Pilavin believes comments have become quieter in recent years—she described people as getting shyer—but saves and shares remain a strong, intentional signal. Also, negative or quiet responses are useful data; Pilavin reads a quiet response to a single review as a sign “that the [book] hook was not quite right.”
When approaching BookTok creators or influencers about a book, it’s imperative for publishers (or authors) to match the book to the right creator based on genuine interest. Meaning: Do not pick influencers based on follower count, but choose someone who is most likely to be passionate, not indifferent, about the book. In fact, Vallence rejects follower-count minimums for Penguin Teen’s program; “I don’t want that,” she says—quality of content over quantity of followers is key. Her goal is genuine relationships and trust, and that means a recommendation from her Penguin team carries weight with a creator like Pilavin. For her part, Pilavin says her hard rule on paid partnerships is to never promote a book she wouldn’t pick up to read herself or didn’t enjoy—the partnership has to work for both sides. Pilavin also advised against publishers or authors giving BookTok creators a rigid script (e.g., “say this in the first three seconds”) because it won’t work; any creator’s videos have to feel like their own organic content.
What are the ingredients right now for making a book take off on BookTok? Vallence says the formula has shifted from focusing on comparable titles or media toward going straight to plot and character. (“It’s a book about this with this and this.”) That said, comps can still matter, depending on the cultural moment. Pilavin gave the example of a new novel, Sublimation by Isabel J. Kim, about immigration as splitting or leaving a copy of yourself behind, comped to the Apple TV series Severance. Either way, the first five seconds of a video are decisive; distilling a book into one powerful sentence matters enormously, she says.
Vallence’s example of a book that took off because of TikTok was Malinda Lo’s Last Night at the Telegraph Club, a historical-fiction queer novel. Penguin Teen found the right BookTok creator, an Asian American who felt a connection to the book and the author. The way she spoke about the book was authentic and real; she in fact said in her video, “This book is me.” Before that point, Telegraph Club had a good start with strong critical reception inside industry, but the general consumer hadn’t really discovered it yet. Then the TikTok video made it fly, and Penguin struggled to keep the book in print.
If you’re new to TikTok, how should you begin? Vallence suggested that the first three months should be experimentation. Then evaluate what’s working and what you enjoy producing. (Kang offered an 80/20 rule no matter how experienced you are: 80 percent conversation-driving content, 20 percent experimentation.) Pilavin started on TikTok by discussing what brings her joy, but later, a series that gained her 100,000 followers in a week got “put to bed” because the conversations it produced weren’t ones she wanted to have. She advised that no one should let “the serotonin of a viral moment” drive them, and she ultimately found a more authentic replacement series that performed just as well.
Bottom line: If you’re not making use of TikTok already, should you start now? These panelists offered an unqualified yes for the most part. (If you’re an author who dislikes the format to the point your videos make it look like you’re being held hostage or forced to be there, don’t bother.) Vallence said, “It’s where your readers are,” and even an account to lurk is “an infinite learning lesson, like a consumer insight survey at your door for free all the time.” Pilavin said starting from scratch is freeing because there are no expectations and you can just experiment—until the day that one video changes your life because it takes off. She made it sound like it’s only a matter of time if you just keep at it: “It’s so much fun.”
Jane Friedman has spent her entire career working in the publishing industry, with a focus on business reporting and author education. Established in 2015, her newsletter The Bottom Line provides nuanced market intelligence to thousands of authors and industry professionals; in 2023, she was named Publishing Commentator of the Year by Digital Book World.
Jane’s expertise regularly features in major media outlets such as The New York Times, The Atlantic, NPR, The Today Show, Wired, The Guardian, Fox News, and BBC. Her book, The Business of Being a Writer, Second Edition (The University of Chicago Press), is used as a classroom text by many writing and publishing degree programs. She reaches thousands through speaking engagements and workshops at diverse venues worldwide, including NYU’s Advanced Publishing Institute, Frankfurt Book Fair, and numerous MFA programs.
