Knock. Knock.

The most terrifying and exciting aspect of knocking on a door
is not knowing what happens next.

I’m exhausted. Honestly, with the exception of my final weeks of college, I can’t remember a time in my life I’ve ever felt this bone-weary.

I’m terrified. In the past six months I’ve watched door after door close (or never open). Except for this one.

I attended a writers’ conference in April that I couldn’t afford because of the generosity of others. I met incredible men and women who were perfectly placed in my life in that specific moment to encourage me to lift my hand one more time. And I returned with an editor wanting a proposal, an agent wanting to meet, and two-thirds of a book to rewrite.

It feels like an eternity has passed, but in reality, it’s just been shy of two months.

Most days I feel like I’ve made little progress, but in reality I’ve finished a complete re-write of a nearly 50,000 word middle grade fantasy, and I’m about to finish the most in-depth proposal I’ve ever written for both the editor and agent.

That’s why I’m shaking.

During my conference I heard from more than one editor and agent that of all the writers they request work from more than 80 percent never respond. So, I thought, for every 10 pieces they ask to see, they get maybe two?

At the time I thought such behavior was completely insane. We’re writers. No matter what stage of our career we’re in we’re working towards publication, right? Being terrified of sending out queries and proposals cold is one thing. I completely understood that, but if someone was asking to see my work…that was the dream, wasn’t it?

Seven weeks later I have a better understanding of why so many writers drop off.

Perhaps, like me, they feel moments of intense pressure to submit something so perfect the editor can’t do anything but accept it.

Perhaps, like me, they love the fact that someone is waiting to see their work, but they fear the moment they send that piece out it will be yet another door that closes, or refuses to open.

And the pressure and fear continues to build until it becomes more than they can handle.

But what about the ones who push through, despite all of that?

For me, the past several weeks have seemed so long because they’ve been so full (and not with just writing). One day blurs into the next because I’ve had to train myself to focus on one thing at a time. First by finishing my rewrite, then by turning my attention to the proposal.

I’ve come to accept there is no such thing as a perfect book or book proposal. There is only my best effort to complete something I am heart-and-soul passionate about. 

No matter what my writing resume looks like, there will always be the chance an editor or agent will say no. But if I don’t take the risk and follow through, I’m not giving them the chance to say yes, either.

And, as a friend reminded me last night when I had a momentary breakdown, if someone asks to see our work it’s because they saw in us during that brief moment our paths crossed something that intrigued them. That made them want to know more.

The question I have been asking myself every day since I got home is: Am I one of the majority who holds back? Or will I be one of the few who despite the feelings of uncertainty steps out and keeps trying?

Which is why today, like every day for the past seven weeks, I’m plopping myself into my chair and blocking out as many distractions as possible so I can finish what I started. Then I’m going to go see if this door in front of me is going to open when I knock.

How about you?

30 Days of Thankfulness in Writing – Day 6: Rejection

It’s easy to focus on the negative in the world around us. In observation of a month many dedicate to counting their blessings, I’ve started a 30-day challenge in which I’ll focus on one aspect of my writing life for which I am thankful. I’d love to have you join by sharing about something that has blessed your own writing life in the comments section below. - Jen

I’ll never forget the day I finished the first draft of my first book. I was elated. I was inspired. I was ready to take on the world. I combed through my Writer’s Market searching for the ideal agent to represent me. I spent hours crafting my first query letters. I checked and rechecked names and addresses to make sure I had everything right. Then I dropped an entire stack into the mail and waited for one of them to ask to see more pages.

Every single one of the letters came back with the dreaded canned rejection. I’d never felt like more of a failure in my life.

Fast-forward seven years. Today I can honestly say I am truly thankful for those rejections. I learned more from that experience than I ever did in a classroom. Because of those rejections I learned that just because a particular project isn’t accepted doesn’t mean I am incapable of writing anything of value. Those impersonal notes showed me how much I still had to learn about the craft of writing. I discovered the wisdom of sitting at the feet of those who had already gone through the early learning stages and could offer advice in how to avoid making the same mistakes.

Most importantly, I found that I have the drive and the desire to continue moving forward. That even without a book deal I can write, and do enjoy even the most infuriating aspects of it.

I am so thankful that story never made it into print. It would have been a disaster. Now I have gained experience where before I had none. I have a better idea of what it is I hope to accomplish with my writing. And I’m using these skills to dust off and rewrite the story I started so many years ago.

I have no guarantee it will be picked up this time either, but I know now that I can handle the rejections. I can also look for new lessons to be learned from those short, cryptic responses.