How to Know When Your Novel is Ready to Submit to Agents and Publishers

They say that art is never truly finished — it’s only ever abandoned. Sometimes, the moment of abandonment evolves naturally as the final revisions conclude and the creator takes a deep breath, steps away from their creation, and nods with tired satisfaction in the understanding that they’ve brought this work as close to perfection as they possibly can.

More often, though, we find ourselves clinging on for dear life, convinced that it needs just one more round of edits before we can bear to let it go.

Look, I’m the author of a novel that I spent twenty-two human years revising, so I know whereof I speak. Don’t be me.

Let’s look at how to do that.

The First Draft is not the Last

Let’s start with the reality check: no first draft is publishable. Some of them arrive in a more complete state than others, but this is not a competition. Nobody’s first draft is ready to submit, and you’re the only person counting the number of complete redrafts you undertake. (Spoiler: it’s probably more than one, as well.)

First drafts are about getting your ideas down on paper — like throwing spaghetti at a wall to see what sticks. Inevitably, some sections are going to be more soggy noodle than Italian restaurant. Second drafts are where you add the seasoning. Third drafts and beyond are where the meal starts to take shape.

I’m overextending this metaphor and I hate it already. But the key point here is to understand that there’s a big difference between a draft and a finished manuscript. The former is your brainstorming session; the latter is your polished work of art. And, theoretically, you could keep polishing it forever.

That’s an option. I don’t think it’s the option you had in mind when you started writing your novel, but, hey, maybe your goal was simply to prove to yourself that you could write a novel — and you’ve done that. Maybe this was your “training wheels” novel — the one you never intended to show the world, but which you wrote so that you could learn how to write a novel. Maybe you just wanted to record some personal history for posterity, to pass on to your family so that something is never forgotten. All these are completely valid, as is any other reason you might have to not want to publish.

But, see, here’s the thing. I’m 90% sure that none of these apply to you. I’m pretty sure you’ve just got in your head and freaked yourself out, and that’s why you think it’s not ready.

But just in case…

Signs Your Manuscript is Not Actually Ready

Honestly? The fact that you’re in your head about this at all is actually a really good sign — it shows that you’ve got a firm handle on what the editing process is about, and you’ve identified (and likely ironed out) much of the messy chaos of that initial draft. My rule of thumb is that a new novel needs at least three good, solid, full-length revisions before it’s even close to final-draft format — and if you’re still finding your voice as an emerging author, it may take quite a few more than that. (Don’t worry: it gets quicker each time.)

But maybe you’ve been at this for a while, and you feel like it should be almost there… but something’s not working and you can’t put your finger on why. So, yeah, you’re right: it’s not ready to submit just yet. And that could be because of…

Incoherent plot: A hill I will die on: a plot hole is only an issue if it’s an issue… but maybe it’s an issue. Are you over-relying on coincidence to get your characters out of a pickle? That’s likely to ring false to a reader. Have you failed to breadcrumb a narrative twist appropriately? If it’s not supported by the preceding narrative, a twist will almost certainly fall flat. Is your narrative structure uneven? This can be a good time to go back to basics and map out the fundamental beats of your story to make sure they follow logically and coherently, and fall at the appropriate point in your narrative.
Incoherent character arc: Characters making poor decisions is great for narrative tension — but only if their poor decision-making flows logically out of their personality, worldview, and established approach to problem solving. Are your characters acting in a certain way just because the plot demands it? That’s going to make it difficult for readers to connect. Your characters’ actions should feel as though they’re inevitable — as though this is exactly in keeping with how this particular person would react to this particular situation.
Unresolved subplots or dangling threads: Ugh, I had to cut an entire character once when a beta reader pointed out that they were functioning as a Chekhov’s gun that never fired. Her subplot set up narrative expectations that the story didn’t deliver, and the novel as a whole felt incomplete as a result. RIP, Cicely — I really liked you, but your story wasn’t the story I was telling.
Over-Reliance on clichés, archetypes, or tropes: While archetypes and tropes can be comforting (hello, “the chosen one”), they can also feel stale if overused. And this is exponentially more true if the trope or archetype applies to a marginalised identity. You might not be the best person to judge if this is the case, either — if you’re writing about a marginalised identity, and it’s an identity to which you don’t belong, it’s really, really important to ask a sensitivity reader to check for unconscious bias or stereotyping. But as a general rule: archetypes and tropes are a useful foundation for storytelling, but if you’re using them in your story, you should make sure your treatment brings something fresh to the table.

“Perfect manuscripts don’t exist, but submission-ready ones do. Trust your instincts. They’re stronger than you think.”

Signs That Your Manuscript is Ready

So… this comes down, ultimately, to trusting your gut. (And maybe your beta readers stage an intervention; I don’t know.) But the thing is… you know. You do. After countless revisions, feedback from beta readers, and maybe even a professional editor, there will come a point where you know the final draft is near.

This is not because you’re exhausted with the piece — you may well be fed up to the back teeth with it by this stage, but no. That doesn’t quite capture what’s going on here. And it’s not because your writing group or your mum or your beta readers are putting pressure on you to start sending it out. They might be, but you could probably ignore them easily enough up to this point, except now you’re suddenly feeling more defensive whenever the subject comes up. This is something new… because you just know that something is different now.

And you’ll probably resist that knowledge. You’ll doubt yourself. You’ll start seeing only the flaws and all the ways in which your novel could potentially fall flat on its proverbial face. But you’ll still know. Because your writing instincts have been honed by a lifetime of consuming other people’s completed manuscripts, and you know at a fundamental level that your own manuscript is closing in on that point — but you’ll still try to push back against that inner voice.

And you shouldn’t.

Because that gut feeling as a writer isn’t just random emotion – it’s an amalgamation of your craft knowledge, experience, and deep familiarity with your work. Like a musician who inherently knows when a piece is performance-ready, writers develop this sense over time.

Signs that your inner voice is speaking the truth include (but are not limited to):

You’ve completed multiple rounds of revisions
You can read your manuscript and find no major errors in the first few pages
You read your opening paragraphs and think, “Huh. This is… not bad, actually.”
The story feels complete, not just finished
You’re excited to let others read it (for a given value of “excited” that includes a naturally occurring element of “terrified”)
Plot development and character arcs feel natural and complete
The voice (or individual voices) remains consistent throughout
You’ve addressed all major feedback from trusted readers
People you trust are telling you it’s good
You’ve taken a break of around 2-3 weeks and, when you read it again, it still makes sense
The manuscript aligns as closely as it ever has with your original vision
The idea of submitting feels terrifying for a whole new reason

The Final Test

Read your manuscript one last time as a reader, not a writer. If you find yourself immersed in the story rather than analysing every word, that’s often the clearest sign you’re ready to submit.

Remember: Perfect manuscripts don’t exist, but submission-ready ones do. Trust your developed instincts. They’re stronger than you think.

Every author has faced this moment. Every book you’ve ever loved exists because that author decided, “You know what? I’m just going to do it.” They looked those creative doubts square in the eye, extended a middle finger, and let the dice fall.

It’s natural to feel some trepidation at this point. After all, you’ve poured your heart and soul into the creation of this book — and now you’re asking the world to tell you if you’ve done it right. There are scary new waters to navigate — what the hell is a simultaneous submission? — and the very real possibility of rejection to negotiate.

Is it worth it? Oh yes. It absolutely is. Just ask your future self if they’ve ever regretted taking this next step, and I can guarantee you they’ll say no.

Your story deserves to be heard. It’s time to let it go.