The story behind my first book

How and why I wrote The Little Book of Living Small, plus the book I want to write next.

I have a long list of newsletter topics I want to write, but every time I sit down to commit to the next week’s topic I get skittish. Do they want to hear about sustainable lawns? I wonder. Have I yammered on too much about myself? I fret. Should these letters be more of a first-person read or should I stick to good old fashioned service journalism? 

My calendar helped me pin down this week’s topic. It turns out that tomorrow is The Little Book of Living Small’s 3rd birthday–and what a long three years they have been. I won’t dwell on my first book debuting at the height of the first wave of COVID in New York (in short: not what I dreamed), but I do feel like I’ve had enough time and space to reflect on the making of that book. Here goes:

How I ended up writing my book

I wrote the Little Book of Living Small because I was frustrated with other small-space books. 

The majority of the books I found on the topic showed small spaces in the extreme: Tiny houses, studio apartments, itty-bitty pied à terres that no one actually had to live in full time. I wanted a book to help me with my own relatively small but not tiny space. 

My first vision for the book was a pocket-sized tome filled with tips and ideas and just a handful of photos that you could read in an hour or so. I approached the publisher of a series of these type of small books and the editor encouraged me to write a treatment for my idea, but when it came time to talk about the fee, it was so low (less than what I would have paid a writer for a magazine feature) that I had to say no. 

I was really bummed. My friend Jenna, a cookbook author, suggested I send my mini proposal to her agent to see if it would be worth pitching elsewhere. The agent wrote me back immediately and said she’d be willing to shop it for me if I wrote a full proposal. We sent it out in July of 2018.

We got a warm response from a bunch of publishers, but no one was jumping to buy my book. The refrain from pretty much everyone was We’d be thrilled to sign Laura for a book deal… if she had more of “an audience.” (Gulp.) One editor from a big publisher of illustrated books took a particular interest. We had a great phone call and she told me she thought The Little Book of Living Small could be something more: A coffee table book with home tours. She asked for a revised proposal, which my agent assured me was all but a promise to make me an offer for the book. It was a daunting but exciting prospect: I revised my proposal to fit her vision. We sent it in… and then nothing. 

Again, I was deflated. I must have said something to my internet buddy, Grant, because he swooped in to introduce me to his editor at Gibbs Smith Books, a smaller publisher my agent had not yet pitched. My future editor got a look at that shiny revised proposal I’d created for the big New York City publisher and decided to take a chance on me–even if I only had a thousand Instagram followers. 

Reflecting back, I am awed by all the people who helped bring my book to life: The first editor who replied to my query, my friend who introduced me to her rep, the kindly agent, the editor who pushed me to dream bigger (even though she didn’t buy the book), my internet friend who introduced me to his editor, the editor who bought my book, not to mention: The homeowners who let us come shoot their spaces. That’s a whole lot of people who believed in this book before it even existed! 

Living Small was produced in a whirlwind. I signed the contract in October 2018 and spent the fall identifying possible homes. Then my husband Weston and I shot the whole thing in the winter of 2019. I wrote the book on weekends (I had a full time job at the time) while Weston entertained our then 3 ½ year old son. I turned the manuscript in in April 2019, and the book came out on April 7, 2020. 

Reflecting on what we made

I am so proud of this little book (even if flipping through the book today, I see a few things I would change). I am a little amazed by the fact that it came together so quickly and so well. We had no stylist to help make the rooms shine, no budget for props, but this made the book more authentic. My photographer husband worked without any assistant. It was really just the two of us.

The most rewarding part of writing the book has been the feedback from readers. When I get messages on Instagram or emails from readers it makes my day. People have told me the book helped them–that is was useful!–and that was my goal all along: To create a book that would actually help people with their real spaces. One Instagram follower recently told me it changed her life. Whoah. 

I’ve also made friends because of this book. Some of the men and women featured in its pages have become my real-life friends. There are other people I connected with because they’d read the book whom I now call friends. It was also a joy to create something of my own (a similar feeling I get to writing here on Substack). Plus, you really can’t beat the thrill of seeing your own book in a bookstore.

The follow-up book (that wasn’t)

I wanted to write a follow-up to Living Small called The Little Book of Living Green, in part because I find myself feeling the same frustration with coverage of green homes. The “sustainable” homes are almost always new construction and when they’re not the homes are often hippy-dippy in a way I find unappealing. 

I figured we’d do it all again: Identify stylish but relatable homes that embody a sustainable lifestyle. Each home would show different ways everyday people can make their homes more sustainable. I would write each home up as a dense, service-packed home tour. The book would feature the usual gorgeous interior shots you’d expect from a home design book, but we’d also capture the less-design-y details, like where they store their compost, the indoor clothes drying rack, where they park/store their bikes, or the windowsill pots of herbs.

But the pandemic put the brakes on this book (no one was traveling or welcoming people into their homes in 2020). I wrote a book about bunk beds during the first year of the pandemic instead—it was fun!

Further reading:

Here’s an excerpt from the intro to The Little Book Living Small it explains why I’m so passionate about small-space living:

For those who could choose to live large, there are many reasons to limit your footprint—from economical to philosophical. No matter what your circumstances, there are advantages to living small:

A small home will cost less—both to buy or rent and to keep up. 

A small home is easier to maintain. Less space means less to clean; fewer belongings mean less to keep organized. 

A small home is better for the earth. We’ll use less energy to heat, cool, and power smaller homes. We also take up fewer resources to furnish and maintain them. 

A small home forces simplicity. With less space to squirrel away our belongings, we can live with the things we truly love and use. 

A small home fosters closeness. Families and couples that live in tighter quarters spend more time in each other’s presence, allowing for more moments of intimacy.

These advantages will manifest themselves in all parts of your life. Choosing to live small will mean you have:

Less stress. You’ll worry less about the cost and work of keeping up a larger home. 

More time. Less time spent cleaning and maintaining your home means more time doing the things you love.

More money. Spending less on your home means you’ll have more to save and spend. You can chip away at debt faster, retire sooner, or travel more.

More meaning. Freed of things you do not need or want, your home will be cozier and imbued with substance.