Morning!
Today’s question: Is getting your novel published really all it’s cracked up to be?
Well, I think this varies dependent upon your desire to see your name in lights, but after I finished Whistling in the Dark and, as we used to say in the ‘50’s, I thought it was “the tits,” I couldn’t wait to get it into readers’ hands.
Maybe you’ve spent years finishing your story, too. You’ve poured your heart and soul into this baby, and now you want to send it out into the marketplace where, unfortunately, you’re about to discover that the primary determination of its worth will not be your clever writing, plotting, or character development. Sure, that all counts for something, but not as much as you’d like to think. Luck, a powerful literary agent, connections in the industry, and the most important factor, whether or not a publisher believes your story will line their pockets, and is willing to market it properly, are the factors that’ll decide your story’s fate. Remember: Writing is an art. Publishing is a business. Simply horrendous novels can sell for tons of money and quality work overlooked based on the almighty dollar.
Given all that, I’ve been fortunate to have my share of success over the years, and boy, it’s a thrill the first time you see your book on a shelf, or catch someone reading one in an airport. It’s great fun to meet booksellers, other authors, and readers at events. I also may have instructed my daughter to have NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR engraved on my tombstone. And, while I’m eternally grateful for every bit of the past twenty years, I’m also still stunned that I pulled that rabbit out of a hat, because I had no idea what I was doing when I started out. It all felt a bit like that old line from the Garland/Rooney movie, “Hey, let’s put on a show!” and I’d been cast as the magician who had no prior experience.
First trick—The LITERARY AGENT.
Yes, yes, I know that I touched a bit on this before, but for those of you just joining in, after I was absolutely sure I’d done all that I could to gather information about suitable agents I was ready to take the plunge. I wrote my query letter, made the sign of the cross, and out it went. I adored my story, and innocent that I was, I was convinced a flock of agents would fall head-over-heels for the two sisters growing up in Milwaukee during the “good old days,” too. I sat in front of my desktop, giddily prepared to field the offers for representation that would certainly come rolling in, but that’s not how it went. Not. Even. Close.
As an actress, I’ve had to deal with rejection my entire career. Either I am too good-looking for a part, not good-looking enough, too funny, not funny enough, my voice is too high, too low, etc. An actor/actress can go on ten auditions and if they land one of them they’re doing phenomenally well. So, with years and years of practice at getting turned down, I should haven’t been devastated when I sent out my query letter and the first rejection arrived five minutes later, right? The agent hadn’t read one word of the story, but was sure that, “It’s not for me.”
(Self-doubt enters stage left dressed in black and dripping swamp water.)
Was it my query? Was it horrible? Did I need to spend more time on it? From what I’d read, these pitches seemed all important. How would I get my story out to readers if I couldn’t even convince a literary agent to read it?
The first rejection was the fastest, but over the next six months or so, they kept rolling in. Eventually, a few requested the first three chapters then rejected it. A couple more asked for “partials” and I never heard from them again. Only one or two agents requested a full manuscript and then passed on it. Those were the most painful. Right around my hundredth, “Thanks, but, no thanks,” it began to occur to me that maybe my story wasn’t as wonderful as I thought it was, and I began to take very long, hot baths during which I cried my eyes out and practiced holding my breath under water way too long.
But, why so down?
I’d been rejected hundreds of times before and sure, I was disappointed when I wasn’t cast in that Spielberg movie, or Coke commercial, but this felt different. This wasn’t a day of shooting. Writing my novel was a year and a half of getting up at 5AM, getting the kids off to school, and working on a story that meant a lot more to me than a part in a movie or commercial. These rejections felt personal and my self-esteem took a dive and was having a difficult time resurfacing.
Maintaining my mental health has always been very high on my TO-DO list, so I had to ask myself—is this worth it? Is it time to call it quits before more damage is done to my psyche? Is getting my novel published really worth having puckered bath-fingers and bloodshot-eyes, sleepless nights, and occasionally eating an entire chocolate cake to drown my sorrows? Can’t I just be happy knowing that I have a lovely family and a thriving acting career and restaurant and be on my merry way?
Apparently, not, and more on the how and why of that next time!
Enjoy your holiday my friends, and this short audio excerpt about July 4th, 1959 from Whistling in the Dark.
Hugs,
Lesley