Jessica Ciencin Henriquez ‘17 Redefines Publishing Industry with Rev Publishing

Only three pages populate Rev Publishing’s website. "Who We Are” ("At Rev Publishing, we don’t chase trends—we follow truth"), a “Contact” page for media requests, bookstore orders, rights & permissions, etc., and “Submissions” ("No query letters. No agents. No sample pages. We do not accept unsolicited submissions from agents or writers. If your words belong here, we’ll make sure to find you").

Initially the lack of more information about the new publishing company—started by Writing alum Jessica Ciencin Henriquez '17 with offices in New York, Paris, Los Angeles, and Bogotá—can feel frustrating. However, there is an intentionality to this effect—it's all part of Henriquez's mission to frustrate and redefine the publishing industry overall.

Henriquez arrived at this mission after working as a ghostwriter for Big Five publishers where she says she was sickened at the “assembly-line approach to publishing,” calling it mass production rather than art. “Readers are overwhelmed by this kind of saturation, inundated with rushed, formulaic content that doesn’t allow for deep engagement,” Henriquez explained in an interview published by AP News.

Rev Publishing is designed to function differently than a typical publishing company. Rev isn’t on social media or on the book festival circuit. The small team will release only a handful of books per year. Their debut authors are signed with two-book deals, given sixty percent of the profits, and higher-than-average royalty payments.

It's Henriquez's experience in the publishing industry and in the Writing program that ultimately inspired her to build Rev Publishing with this new model. Once she clues you in on what she knows, slowly unwinding it through the story of the people she’s met, the rooms she’s been in, and the experiences that got her there, it becomes all the more clear that she knows what her mission is and how she can achieve it: by using new metrics.

Henriquez discussed these metrics in an interview done over email, mapping how they grew throughout her time as a student in Columbia’s MFA program (when she worked as a ghostwriter) and how she measures new goals.

 

According to the Rev Publishing website, the company pursues "truth," rather than trends. Truth is a hard word to synthesize, especially in these times. What is truth?

Jessica Ciencin Henriquez [JCH]: Truth, to me, is unchanging knowledge. It’s something you feel in your body, it’s more than you can ever fully describe. Impossible to pin down, but when you feel it, you just know.

When we look across history, you’ll see writers like Hafiz, Rumi, Rilke, Mary Oliver, James Baldwin, Nikita Gill all sharing these universal ideas that make us feel both comforted and understood, no matter the time period or place they were writing from. Truth is in that one line you read that hits you somewhere deep, and makes you feel for a moment, a little closer to your soul.

Rev is framed around elevating that level of truth-telling because the publishing industry is easily swept up in trends—what’s hot right now, what’s popular, what kind of titles fit on someone’s list—but trends are fleeting. At Rev, we want to publish work that leaves readers with something they can come back to over and over. For us, a good test is this: Will this writing still have power fifty years from now? Would it have had power fifty years ago? If the answer is yes, then we know we’re moving in the right direction.

 

Rev isn't on social media and doesn't participate in the usual book fair circuit, or other forms of PR. Why is it important to you to be in different rooms than everyone else? Where can people find you?

[JCH]: We’re a small team of women, spread across three continents, working intentionally and quietly. We’ve each seen how the publishing world operates—how certain rooms, conferences, and networks uphold this image of exclusivity. I’ve been in those spaces: I graduated from the Ivy League, I’ve ghost-written for Big Five publishing houses, and I’ve been on panels in the many places that keep up an illusion of prestige by keeping so many out.

With Rev Publishing, I wanted to do things differently. We’re not here to create a brand that’s bigger than the words themselves, or to treat writing as a status symbol. You won’t see us on social media because we’re not interested in feeding that cycle of hot air (not to mention it’s a time waster and an energy sucker).We don’t expect our writers to be on social media, either. The value of their work isn’t tied to likes or follows.

At Rev, we stay behind the scenes because that’s where the real work happens—where we can focus on the voices and stories that matter.

 

With statements on Rev's "Who We Are" page like “We believe in a certain kind of slowness the world has forgotten" and “We believe sentences are the most sacred things after love and solitude,” it’s clear Rev Publishing has a strong philosophy. How did you develop it? What influences or experiences lie behind and inform your philosophy?

[JCH]: I spent most of my life checking all the right boxes, following the path I was told would lead to happiness and success. I did everything I thought I was supposed to do, but when I got there—when I’d checked the last box—I looked around and thought, "Whose life is this?" It felt empty. Nothing about it felt true. I’d built this image, brick by brick, of what success and happiness were “supposed” to look like, and it was all hollow.

A few years ago, my life completely unraveled, and everything I’d built just burned down. For two years, I did nothing. I didn’t write, I didn’t create; I just sat in the stillness and silence that followed, trying to understand what my life could be if I started from scratch. 

Rev Publishing was born from that silence, from that process of starting over and building only what felt aligned with my values. Rev was created from a place of questioning and reimagining how things could look if we let go of the “way it’s always been done.”

I think that is a scary place for people to be. Willing to let go of these long-standing structures, especially ones that have promised to protect and support you. The truth is, we’re all capable of creating our own realities here but if you don’t have clarity on the foundation, the values, the non-negotiables—you will only create more of the same and call it by a different name.

My time at Columbia shaped this thinking, too. There’s a kind of wisdom I found there—a respect for language, for what words can do, and how they can change. Those were the years I learned how to deconstruct a word, how to dig and find the root and measure how far we’ve moved away from it. It’s funny; I almost didn’t use the word "publishing" for this imprint because I’m so disillusioned with the industry. The word "publishing" comes from the Latin root publicare, which means "to make public" or "to share with the people." Publicare derives from publicus, meaning "of the people.” So I kept the word publishing because it is a reminder of what we are doing—bringing words back into the hands of the people.

 

In lieu of query letters, agents, sample pages, and unsolicited submissions, Rev Publishing looks for writers that "rise above the noise." What does that mean for you?

[JCH]: The writers I’m drawn to aren’t trying to be products; they don’t write out of desperation or for the sake of being seen. They’re not writing to prove themselves to anyone, or worse, to themselves. Instead, they are writing as an offering—they are creating something real, something rooted in generosity and service that goes far beyond themselves. I think that’s why their work resonates so deeply and often sells so well—readers can feel that it’s not about ego; it’s about connection. 

True staying power comes from creating something that elevates and feeds others. Writers like Toni Morrison, Octavia Butler, Sandra Cisneros, Christian Bobin, and Lucille Clifton exemplify this beautifully in their work. And today, writers like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Ada Limón, Natalie Diaz, Aracelis Girmay, and Edwidge Danticat are carrying that torch, offering us stories and poetry that challenge, heal, and inspire in ways that feel both timely and timeless.

 

In your interview with AP News, you describe the current publishing industry as favoring an "assembly-line approach to publishing," leading to over 10,000 titles released by traditional houses and their imprints in 2023. What would you say to people who argue that this number indicates that publishing is more accessible than ever? 

[JCH]: Accessibility is a double-edged sword in publishing. On one hand, yes, it’s easier than ever for anyone to put a book out into the world. But when it’s that easy, books become mere extensions of a brand, churned out to capitalize on a pre-existing audience. We’re seeing more and more books created not to engage deeply with readers, but to tick a box, to fill out a publisher’s catalogue, or to sell an image.

Here’s the truth that rarely gets said: not everyone who wants to be a writer has something to say. I recognized that early on in my career, and it became especially clear while I was at Columbia in the MFA program. I say that with no judgment, it’s simply a fact. So many people are drawn to the idea of being a writer—the image, the identity, the romance of it—but being a writer isn’t a title; it’s a way of existing. It’s how you see the world and how you understand your place within it. To truly be a writer means understanding that you’re an instrument, a conduit, you are merely a vessel for something greater. Writing, at its core, is a craft rooted in humility. It demands that you step aside to bring forth something more significant than yourself, from a place of consciousness many of us don’t yet remember.

So, when we talk about real accessibility, that isn’t just about getting a book printed; it’s about creating the right environment for a writer’s words to be seen, valued, and deeply engaged with. At Rev Publishing, we believe in fewer, more intentional releases that serve both the writer and the reader. Our goal isn’t to make sure that everyone who wants to write a book gets to publish one. No. Our focus is on finding writers with something vital to say and partnering with them to create a book that’s worthy of the paper it’s printed on.

 

What is Rev due to publish?

[JCH]: Next year, our lineup includes poetry, memoir, and fiction, and every single one of these books comes from debut authors who have not yet built a massive following. That’s intentional. I want this to be hopeful for emerging writers out there who feel like they don’t fit a certain mold—because with us, it all comes down to the writing itself, the resonance, the truth in the work. 

Our process for finding new voices is different, like everything else we do. We don’t go through the usual submissions or agent route. We’re looking for writers who have something real and necessary to say. We ask our friends which writers have their attention. We have our ears open.

That’s how we found Alexandria du Bois, a French writer who has a novel coming out in Summer 2026, she was doing an open mic night in a little bookstore in Marais. Take Isabella Diego Rojas, for example. She’s a Colombian-Venezuelan poet and fierce women’s rights advocate. We met because she signed up for a free-write I was leading…it was just a space for community and creativity. And when Isabella shared [her work]—everyone on that Zoom just stopped breathing. Her words just hit right in the gut. We kept the conversation going offline and now, her debut poetry collection, Sigue Pa' Que Vea, is coming out in Fall 2025. This, for me, is the best part, bringing someone else’s offering into the world to do the work it’s meant to do.

We’re only releasing a handful of books a year because we want each one to breathe, to take its time, to find the people it’s meant for. This isn’t about stacking a catalog; it’s about building something that lasts. The writers we work with are working on books that, years from now, I hope people will still be talking about, sharing, and re-reading. That’s the legacy we’re aiming for.

 

What are some of the challenges you've experienced in creating Rev Publishing?

[JCH]: Distribution is riddled with roadblocks, and as a new publisher, we’re learning as we go—often horrified along the way. The entire system is, frankly, unsettling, and I don’t know how many writers understand what really goes on behind the curtain. Bookstores and libraries typically work with established distributors like Ingram and Baker & Taylor, so if you want your books in those spaces, you’re expected to go through them, offering steep discounts—around 50-55%—and willing to accept lenient return policies. Small publishers end up sacrificing revenue just to be in the room.

And it doesn’t stop at getting a book on the shelves. To make sure readers even know the book exists, publishers turn to platforms like NetGalley and Edelweiss, where titles are listed at a cost, and the more you pay, the more exposure you gain through premium placements or inclusion in newsletters. Reviews are another piece of the puzzle: while many outlets review books at no cost, other outlets offer paid reviews to ensure your book is seen. And like the saying goes—if a book is written but never reviewed, was it ever really written at all?

The sales recorded through these traditional routes are the sales that count toward bestseller lists and impact award nominations, which all funnel back into book sales. One piece feeds into another, creating a closed-loop system that feels nearly impossible to break without buying into the very mechanisms we’re trying to disrupt. 

So, for now we are hybrid but our focus is on building our own distribution arm. Our own printers, our own fulfillment channels. It’s no small task. It relies heavily on human connection—introducing ourselves to bookstores, librarians, and retailers, explaining who we are, and what we stand for, and finding creative ways to lift up one another’s businesses. The one thing we all share is a genuine love for books. And most of the people I speak with (except those who benefit most from the current system) are just as fed up as I am.

 

A lot of students pursuing their MFAs don’t yet understand publishing deals or contracts and so wouldn’t know to ask or expect the kinds of things Rev Publishing is offering. How did you come to understand and then believe it’s possible to set up a structure that changes the game?

[JCH]: I think MFA programs could really benefit from talking more about the business side of writing. When I was at Columbia (2015-2017), there was this profound emphasis on the art of writing—on craft—which, don’t get me wrong, is so important. But there was almost no guidance on what happens after. How do you sell your work? How do you advocate for yourself? How do you read a contract? How do you even decide what matters most when choosing an agent or publisher?

On one hand, it was freeing—we could create without worrying about the outcome. But on the other hand, it felt like we were being sent into the publishing world completely unprepared. Writers too often end up taking the first agent that shows interest, even if it’s not a fit, or signing the first deal that gets dangled in front of them without realizing what they might be giving up—rights they’ll wish they had later, royalties that undervalue their work. It’s not a small thing.

My path has been pretty unconventional. I found an agent, Margaret Riley King at WME, while I was still in the MFA program, and I’ve also spent years ghostwriting books for traditional publishers, which gave me a front-row seat to how the system works, and more importantly, how it doesn’t. I built Rev Publishing around what I, as a writer, would have needed to feel safe, supported, and valued: a two-book deal, a 60% profit share, and a competitive advance that would allow me to fully focus on writing.

For me, the mission of this company is to remind everyone that writers are the centerpiece. Everyone else—agents, editors, publishers, publicists—they’re investors. They should see themselves as part of your team, working for you, not the other way around. Rev Publishing is building from the question: What happens when we put the writer at the center?

And sure, it’s ambitious. Maybe even a little audacious. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that life is too short and too long to play by someone else’s rules. We’re making this all up as we go.

 

What's your best advice to people in the MFA program right now? 

[JCH]: Prioritize relationships with your professors. Don’t underestimate the value of office hours. Every professor you have is a goldmine of knowledge and experience, and they’re inviting you to learn from them outside of class every week. Show up. Bring them coffee. Ask questions. Be curious. These professors aren’t just your teachers; they’re potential allies for life. When you graduate, they could be the ones writing your reference letters, blurbing your book, or even helping you land life-changing opportunities. Build those relationships now and show sincere appreciation.

Treat writing like it’s your job. Write as if you’re already being paid for it. Show up to the page every day with the same discipline you’d bring to a nine-to-five. Respect your craft, respect your time, and respect the voice that’s chosen you to bring this work into the world. 

And finally, recognize you are not the writer, you are the instrument. The moment you realize that writing isn’t about you—that you’re simply the vessel, the conduit for something greater—the process becomes lighter and, dare I say, divine. Your job isn’t to create genius; it’s to get out of your way and let the genius come through you.