Mostly Unwarranted Disappointment

This post ended up being a rather large ramble with very little point (one of the reasons I wasn’t going to write about the selling process for a while).  I considered deleting and starting over, decided I should allow my ramble to stay for the sake of seeing into my brain, as is the promise of this blog.  It’s long, nothing is said.  Basic point is simple.  I woke up to disappointment, shouldn’t have been as disappointed as I was, working on ideas to circumvent disappointment in the future.  There, now you don’t need to read.  If you do, you have been warned.

 

So, yesterday was all around disappointing.  Was hoping to hear back from the agent who had requested revisions, but didn’t.  The agent who had posted on twitter about having his face blown off by a manuscript revealed that it was not me (not surprising). And I woke up this morning to find out that I had not won the contest I had entered.

None of these are all that big of a disappointment, but putting them all together, not knowing for certain about two of the three until this morning, made for a very unhappy wakeup.

I’m so early on in this process of trying to sell this book that it’s even more disappointing how much I want to quit already.  It’s one thing for people to not like my book (which, for the record, I have yet to hear that from anyone yet), but it’s another thing entirely to attempt to get people interested and to find rejections along the way.

Now, I realize I’m a nobody.  I haven’t really infiltrated the literary circles like many of these other authors have.  The contest that I didn’t win, well, it wasn’t exactly one looking for my type of book.  The agent I’m waiting to hear back from, well, it’s very possible she didn’t even get my e-mail, seeing as it was my first attempt to send an e-mail from my phone.  That’s somewhat unlikely, as I’ve tested, it appears to be working fine.  But, she could be busy and clarifying revision requests are definitely not of much importance when it could be that she was just humoring the idea that I might be able to make things better, and not really containing much interest in the work itself.   And the face melting. . . well, let’s be honest, we knew from the start it wasn’t my manuscript, but pessimist me wasn’t completely able to overwhelm optimist me in that discussion.

In other words, I really have no reason to feel so disappointed this morning.  Honestly, as far as I know, things are still going swimmingly.  I’ve still got two agents to hear back from on fulls, I’ve got a quite a few queries out there that I have yet to hear back from (and should relatively soon) and, well, I’ve got a pretty darn good book.

There are revisions to be made.  The revision thoughts I received from the one agent are totally worthwhile, so I have movement to make in getting the book better.  That’s another happy thought.

Yet, this constant cloud of rejection hangs overheard.  Any moment could be the moment in which another person tells me that my book just isn’t for them (the nice way of saying it’s crap, of course 🙂 )  It’s a difficult place to be in.  Optimist me wants to shine through saying that there’s always options, but pessimist me really begins to reign supreme.  This business is a hard one to crack.  I mean, not only do you need to have a perfect manuscript, or at the very least, somethign that shows you are capable of the perfect manuscript (which is probably harder than actually creating the perfect ms), but you also have to have an incredibly fetching query letter, an e-mail address that doesn’t get you sent to a spam folder, a book that meets the markets agents believe they can sell to, a list of reputable agents, and the energy to research all of them to ensure they are going to have any interest.  And then, of course, the most important piece of all of it. . . patience.

I may not have all of those things, but there’s one thing I can say for sure I don’t have. Patience.

It’s a problem I’ve long held, and one I don’t know how to bypass.  My lack of patience is the number one reason I am constantly ready to go all Spiderman on my attempts to be published (for those unfamiliar with Spiderman’s long history, he quits, or attempts to quit, quite often).   The fear of rejection isn’t even really the culprit here, although a deciding factor.

And so I find myself looking at other options.  I could always make my way through self-publishing, but that doesn’t really allow me the option to get my book edited appropriately.  I could pay for an editor, but holy crap does that get expensive, and if I’m self-publishing. . . well, I’m not going to make that money back, not any time soon anyways.

I have one further thought as to how I would proceed, were I to actually quit trying to get published.  It’s getting pretty well defined, and would, in theory, allow for me to get editing advice, as well as just releasing my book.  I don’t want to reveal that thought quite yet, as, well, it still seems pretty stupid in my head.  But if I can’t get over this lack of patience, it might be the best way to go.  You see, I realize the chances of me ever becoming a highly successful author are pretty thin.  Most authors never get there, and right now, I’m having a hard time actually seeing myself getting to the point of “published author”.  I have no problems with not making millions off of my books. I’d obviously love to be able to quit my day job and focus on writing full time, but, well, that may never be possible.  I’m okay with that.

However, the idea of writing without actually having a purpose (i.e. people reading it) seems pointless.  I’ve got around 10 more book ideas mulling around in my head, as well as put through some of the beginning paces, which I really want to get on writing.  Right now, unless I come up with some plan, or somehow actually land an agent, I’m looking at just having those sit on my harddrive for forever.  Or, I continue searching for an agent and not have the mental energy to actually put into writing.  I enjoy writing, but it seems so wrong to just do it for myself.

So, in other words, my mind has been reeling all morning, trying to come up with a plan for my next steps, in the event that I don’t receive any reason to believe I can actually land an agent.  I don’t want my lack of an agent to keep me from writing, and it honestly won’t.  However, if I’m going to continue writing, which I will, I want to make sure that I’m doing something with it as opposed to just writing to write.  If I’m just writing to write, I don’t see how I’ll ever move forward in my abilities.

And now I am officially rambling. . . been a while since I’ve done that as fully as this.  Considered deleting and starting over, decided to keep.  In summary, I’m disappointed today, although shouldn’t be, working on ideas for the future in the situation my disappointment ends up being actually warranted.

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