Even when we know the answer, and I’m one of them!
Right now, I’m sitting here contemplating my recent decision to self-publish my book, Been There, Done That…Had the Smashed Up Face to Prove It. Not because I think I’ve made a bad decision. I don’t. After thoroughly researching what’s required to get an agent to even consider looking at my query package, I realized I’d be doing most of the work to promote my book upfront before anyone ever sees my query. If that wasn’t enough to sway me in the other direction, discovering the percentage of new authors who never make a dime from their work after getting published by a major publishing house finished the job . So, if I’m happy with my decision to put my memoir on Amazon, you might wonder what’s left to contemplate.
Only the death of a life-long dream.
I’ve dreamed of being published by a major publishing house for most of my life. I came close a couple of times; but, it wasn’t right either time. My first whiff-of-success came when an editor at one of the two major publishing houses requested the manuscript for my first historical romance. The first whiff of defeat came when I received my first official rejection letter. Unfortunately, my manuscript got caught in a shift in writing styles that wasn’t apparent until the next years’ crop of books came out. While that door wasn’t totally shut in my face, I was told to rewrite the whole 150,000 word manuscript, resubmit it, and I might make it back to an editors desk. In my youthful arrogance, I wouldn’t do it. I wasn’t compromising my writing style. Right. Dumb decision. I should have compromised away. Once I got my foot solidly in the door, I could have probably done my own thing to a certain degree.
The second time I had a shot at making it with the same manuscript was a couple of years later when I sent the book out to three well-known agents looking for new clients. I didn’t expect anything to come from it or I probably wouldn’t have sent my book out when I did. I was mainly looking for a diversion from the fact my Mom had just passed away from Cancer at the age of fifty-one. Waiting to hear from agents seemed as good a distraction as any so I took the leap. I was thirty-two at the time and I’d spent the past five years editing that book off and on. The manuscript had lost about 30,000 words along the way and I was proud of it.
When the responses came back, I received some fantastic compliments I wasn’t expecting. However, I didn’t get the representation I was seeking. Or I thought I didn’t. I was disappointed enough at the time to shelf the book and my writing for a while. Actually, real life more or less sapped my desire to write for a few years. It didn’t kill it. Just delayed the creativity. About the time my life settled and my interest in writing returned, I found the letter one of those agents sent me after my Mom died. To both my pleasure and my horror, I read a couple of sentences I’d missed the first time around and shook my head over the foolish girl I’d been. Not just once; but, twice.
While the beginning of that letter was undeniably a rejection, this well-known agent had ended her letter telling me if I’d fix a significant word-processing error in my manuscript she’d gladly represent me. Not only that, she was sure she could get me a contract. As much as I cringe thinking about that today, I wasn’t in any frame of mind to honor any contract she might have gotten me, so missing her offer was probably for the best.
Sadly, the world of publishing has changed greatly from the one I knew a couple of decades ago. I’ve spent the past couple of years trying to understand this strange new animal and I’ve reached the conclusion the best way to learn is to just do it. Put the book out there. Learn to blog. Learn the whole social media thing I’ve tried to ignore. Write my second non-fic. Throw a romance or two in the mix, slowly get my name out there, and build my following. In the end, all that really matters is I’m doing what I enjoy.
So, my final conclusion is, if I can do that…the dream hasn’t really died.
Calla MacKenna
Tori Lennox Author 