Dark and Discouraging Days

Self-indulgence alert... consider yourself warned. This is your last chance to turn away.

WriteOnCon has been going on this week. It's an online writer's conference devoted to 'children's literature,' which encompasses the categories of young adult(generally teenage-centered books), middle grade (generally upper-elementary/low-end middle school books) and picture books (little kids). There have been authors, editors, agents, publicists, people from every imaginable corner of the publishing world participating and answering questions in this event.

In theory, it was a great idea. In execution, it has been equally great. I sat in on a few Q & A sessions, followed along with a few panel discussions, watched several vlogs, and really found a wealth of useful information along the way, stuff that has already made a difference in the direction of my writing on the current book.

But in the end, I have to say the experience has left me really, really discouraged, like Charlie Brown sticking his head in the mailbox even though he knows there's never going to be a Valentine in there (another arena of discouragement that would merit its own topic). I'm feeling particularly down about that whole foot-in-the-door issue. Yeah, I had a good little high this past spring when I had a manuscript request. And it really didn't shake the world out from under me when it didn't happen; I'll admit to being disappointed, but I didn't beat myself up afterward. I was genuinely happy to reach that level.

Months later now, especially after this glimpse into the publishing world, I'm feeling more than ever that manuscript request was a bit of dumb luck. Sure, the query letter had to be solid to be noticed; that much I'll admit. It's a good letter. It should be since it probably took longer for me to write than the first draft of the book itself. But now I'm back out there pushing at a different book, the ghost story I finished last summer and revised this summer. Yep, a whole different book. I have one agent read the other one and pass, and I shelve it. I'm that fickle. Actually that one agent made some comments that gave me ideas of what I could do differently with it, and I wanted to give the manuscript some mental time off before I tackled it again, so I went back to another one that had been given enough time off already. I feel very strongly that the one I'm pushing is a great book, and not just because of how enthusiastic my several dozen beta readers have been about it. It's just something I know. After the work I put into crafting this thing, I don't mind saying that. I feel I've earned the right.

But being a great book doesn't mean it's ever going to go anywhere. It's a ghost story, which unfortunately is going to mean it gets commonly lumped in with other books under the heading of 'paranormal,' and because there are so many stinkin' vampire / werewolf / fallen angel / teenage witch books out there, it's likely that a lot of agents aren't going to give a the concept of a haunted adventure story a second glance. It does have a few things going for it (it's middle grade instead of young adult, and YA is where the biggest paranormal glut is; it has boys for main characters, so it has a 'boy book' appeal that some agents and editors are looking for; it's polished within an inch of its life and has a definable voice; I could go on but won't at the risk of patting myself on the back even harder than I am already).

But one agent on a panel tonight said that out of the 3,000 queries she had received last year, she had offered representation to ONE author. (Kind of questioning whether or not I should have queried her.)

And the thing is? Being repped by an agent guarantees NOTHING as far as publication goes. Someone please tell me how pursuing a career that demands emotional investment and goes against odds that staggeringly ridiculous is NOT self-defeating and a little masochistic. Because regardless of how much an idea can click, or how well it comes together when it's written, there are going to inevitably be many, many more times that you feel like the biggest chump in the world instead of feeling like someone that has anything worth contributing. And that pile of manuscripts you've bled out only serves to support one of those arguments.

Yeeeesh. I think I need to go play some XBox or something to clear my head... sure not getting any worthwhile writing done tonight.