Commerce, Collaboration, and (Un)Certainty: Why I Keep Coming Back to the National Writers’ Conference - Amélie Doche

I've been to the National Writers’ Conference four times now – 2021, 2023, 2024, and 2025 – and each time I leave with a renewed sense of purpose. For me, the value of this event comes down to three things: commerce, collaboration, and certainty (or, more accurately, its absence). These ‘three Cs’ might sound like very different ideas, but at NWC, they’re deeply connected – and together, they capture what it means to be a writer today.

Let’s start with commerce. Bourdieu and Keynes might have hoped to keep art and commerce separate, but let’s face it: we all know better now. And the NWC doesn’t shy away from that. The sessions are practical, industry-focused, and full of solid advice. In 2023 and 2024, speakers like Kim Nash, Samiir Saunders, and Ken Preston demystified self-branding and self-publishing. In 2025, we were told flat out: marketing is about keywords. It’s not just about how beautifully you write – though that’s certainly very important – it’s whether your book gets seen. The NWC acknowledges the reality: writing has become a business, and it helps writers treat it as such. But it’s not just about selling books.

It’s also about collaboration. I prefer that word over ‘community’, which tends to be used a lot at this conference. Maybe it’s the part of me that worries, like Tocqueville did, about the tyranny of groupthink. ‘Collaboration’ feels more grounded. It means working together, co-creating something. That’s what the conference fosters. Over the years, figures like Andrew Kidd (Arvon), Mark Edwards, Emilie Lauren Jones, and Liz Berry have spoken about the importance of coming together. At this year’s conference, Liz Berry’s keynote framed community as an antidote to the ‘scarcity myth’ pushed by neoliberalism to keep us competing instead of connecting. Jean-Paul Sartre was right: we never write in isolation.

Which brings us to the final C: certainty – or really, its absence. Interestingly, this connects back to collaboration. When you share your work, ideas, and vulnerabilities with others, you’re not just building community; you’re also learning to live with the unknown. In 2023 and 2024, keynote conversations with Jonathan Davidson, Jane Rogers, and Anna Ganley revealed an uncomfortable truth: publishing is a gamble. No one truly knows what will succeed. But that’s not a reason to step back – it’s a reason to leap. As historian Timothy Snyder reminds us, human freedom is born from uncertainty. Or, in the words of Mike Gayle at this year’s conference, sometimes you need to channel your inner arrogant teenager and just go for it.

So there you have it. The value of the National Writers Conference isn’t about guaranteed success. It’s about understanding the industry (commerce), finding your people and working with them (collaboration), and embracing the adventure of not knowing what comes next (uncertainty). These three things feed into one another. Knowing how publishing works gives you the tools. Collaborating with others gives you energy. And embracing uncertainty gives you the courage to keep going. That’s why I keep coming back.

Amélie Doche is undertaking a PHD at Birmingham City University in partnership with Writing West Midlands