On Patience: Encouragement From an Agent

Several days ago, I came across this blog post by the lovely Sarah LaPolla of Bradford Literary.  For obvious reasons, I found it deeply encouraging (because, yanno, WAITING).

Seriously.  Take a few minutes to read it.  Those of you who have been around here for awhile know that I am the poster child of The Long Journey That Still Hasn't Brought Me Somewhere Quantifiable (or something like that).  I'm not giving up, and neither should you, regardless of what stage you're at.

(Unless, of course, you've determined that it actually IS time to give up.  But that's a different story.)

The "overnight success" stories are the ones that burn our ears and whisper to us that the cards are stacked against us.  And yes, sometimes a first query round DOES produce an agent.  And sometimes a first round of submissions DOES produce a book sale in five weeks.

But that's not the norm.

Go read Sarah's blog post, and then come back here and tell me what you think.  Honestly, this is a must-read for ANY author currently on submission, and any serious writer in general.

And thank you, Sarah, for being a voice of encouragement to those who are determinedly seeking the traditional route to publication.  Today you are our champion!

When Words Run Dry

If there's such a thing as "writer's block", then there's such a thing as "blogger's block".  And, honestly, when a blog's been around for as long as this one has (6 years and counting!), you're in constant danger of repeating yourself.

Hence the silence this week.  It's not a good week for an in-house critique, since our next Secret Agent contest runs next week.  And nothing has been clawing at my heart, begging to be expressed here.

So, as usual, I'm turning to the raw-and-real me, and telling it like it is.  In short, I have nothing to say.

I have no new words of wisdom this week for those of you on your querying journey.

I have no spontaneous words of encouragement for those of you who are weary in your journey.  (And yes, it really does work that way--words of encouragement spring to my heart and I share them.  I love when that happens.)

I have no ridiculous stories about Mr. A to share (though, to be honest, it wouldn't be hard to come up with one; like, this morning he was snoring while I was putting my make-up on, so I took a video of him on his iPhone.  He hasn't seen it yet...).

And, most of all, I have no good news to share.  So many of you have been pulling for me, cheering me on, offering kind, I-can't-wait-until-you-announce-that-big-sale words.  Often along the way, I have been compelled to keep pressing forward BECAUSE OF YOU.  Because you're watching, and because I never, never want to be an example to anyone of GIVING UP.

Maybe you don't realize how profound that is.  How much of a FORCE you are, collectively, in my life as a writer.

Now you know.

Apparently, it's been a strangely silent late-winter-into-early-spring for many authors.  As in, long bouts without responses from agents or editors.  Everyone knows that silence is part of the game (an infuriating part, but there you have it).  It never comes as a shock or an affront, but it does wear on us, yes?  Anyone who has ever queried or received requests for fulls or been on submission with editors KNOWS WHAT I MEAN.

At first, I thought the Extra Silence was my own experience.  But evidently it's not.  It's not a big deal--it is what it is.  But regardless of staying busy with another project (I am) and maintaining an even keel (I have been), it still nips and pulls at frayed ends of my emotions when I least expect it to.  Like a big, dark hole that I have to keep side-stepping.

"Careful.  Don't fall into the gaping hole."

You can't build a bridge over it, because then you'll just be tempted to hang over the edge and try to see the bottom.  (You won't be able do.)

You can't defy everything and jump in, because then it will SWALLOW YOU WHOLE, and you won't be able to function.  (You especially won't be able to write.)

The only thing you CAN do is to ignore it.  It won't go away (it's a big hole), but it WILL STOP BOTHERING YOU.  It's counterintuitive for anyone who's emotionally aware enough to understand that MOST problems WILL NOT GO AWAY IF YOU IGNORE THEM to do this.  Right?

But this is different.  This Silence isn't really a problem.  It's just a thing.  And we have to ignore it in order to keep pressing forward.

Anyway.  I'm busy ignoring the Big Hole.  And it seems that, in sharing this, I've ended up with some words after all.

Blogging can be so cathartic!

A Different Kind of Waiting

Before I was agented, I would often read blog posts by agented authors who declared that the waiting was the same--if not worse--once you passed the gilded entrance of Agentedness and went on submission.  "It's just as bad!"  "Horrible!" "Don't think the waiting game is over once you get here, honey!"

Okay, I'm paraphrasing.  But it was enough to teach me that I needed to brace myself once my Golden Day arrived.  (Which, at the time, seemed like it never would.  You know how that goes.)

Let's face it: If you're the tiniest bit observant, the one thing you learn about the publishing industry is that's it's slow.  Slow, as in, have we all entered a deep meditative state, and are we still breathing?  Slow, as in, will the children for whom I've written this novel be grandparents by the time it's on the shelves?

Slow.

So the ability to wait with grace serves us well, from the critique partner stage (never bug a writing friend to finish a crit) to the query stage (never bug an agent who hasn't responded to your original query) to the submission stage (never bug your agent when there isn't any news from the land of editors).  And it doesn't stop there.  The actual deal-to-finished-book process is extremely long.  And while editors may demand slightly less than reasonable deadlines, they may not always produce the line-edits or editorial letters or copyediting in a timely manner.  So authors must wait.

With grace.

So.  You all know that my novel is on submission, and it's not something I talk about because I don't think it's appropriate.  Professionally, I mean.  If you lived next door and we were having coffee together, you'd get an earful.

But yanno, you've walked this journey with me from the onset of your arrival to the blog, and I like that you're part of it.  So I want to say something enlightening or encouraging or mildly amusing.  Something to keep you in the loop.

And here is it:  The on-submission waiting isn't "the same as" or "worse than" the query-process waiting.  It is, from my perspective, a different kind of waiting, and one that is, ultimately, easier to bear.

Think about it.  An agent is your advocate.  You've done the work on the book, and the rest is up to your agent.  You're responsible to keep writing, keep growing as an author.  And to be ready for whatever happens next.

There's a restfulness inherent in this set-up that I think some authors miss.  It's admittedly easy to become angsty during the submission process.  I mean--it's scary!  You feel naked!  You're terrified that nobody else will love your novel. Or you.  Or anything remotely related to you.

But if you're wise, you eventually take a deep breath and get over all that.  Then you pour yourself a cup of green tea with honey, and you write.

And here's the "different" part: You write without having to do anything else.  No agent research.  No queries.  None of the stuff that used to take up so much of your time.

Folks!  This is so freeing!  And to use this time for angsting would be incredibly counterproductive.

I have no right to talk about "long waits" at this point, anyway.  For Josh and me, it's early in the game.  Remember: slow, slow, slow!  So while I've admittedly stalked an editor or two on my blog and briefly obsessed about this or that, I came fairly quickly to the leave-it-in-Josh's-hands-and-keep-writing mindset.

And I'm here to tell you: Being on submission does not have to be a horrible, nail-bite inducing process.  DON'T LET THEM MAKE YOU BELIEVE OTHERWISE!

That's my public service announcement for the day.

Oh, and I'm almost finished with my WIP.  "Excited" doesn't begin to express my feelings about it.  And the fact that I can FEEL EXCITED ABOUT A WIP while on submission with a different novel makes me feel like I've "arrived" somehow.

I haven't "arrived", of course.  But I'm in a good place.  I love my agent, I love my dystopian-on-submission, I love my WIP, I love my husband, I love the writing community.

It's all good!