So I wrote a book, the title is Dissident. There’s so much to tell you. I don’t even know where to start. How about publishing. I had no idea what I was really getting myself into when I opened that word doc nearly two years ago.
To get a book in print, it’s best to go through an agent. At least for your first book. Querying agent after agent to see who is willing to represent it. This agent will find a publisher who will buy it and turn it into something amazing that people will buy.
And you can guess what happens when you’re an invisible first time author trying to get attention in a sea of others just like you. An endless parade of rejection letters. Or worse, just being ignored. I read somewhere that you should expect to be rejected (or ignored) 100 times before you find someone willing to take you seriously.
Not sure how true that is. But it was scare me away from the profession for a long time. Talk about a colossal waste of time.
But I also read that those who make it in the industry aren’t necessarily the ones with talent. This profession is all about survival of the most persistent. Or in my case, relentless.
So at this date, I think I’m about a third of the way to my goal of querying 100 different agencies. After about the first ten it became a game of cut and paste. Each agent wants something just a bit different, but really it’s all the same. The same questions asked in a different order. Cut. Paste. Send. Next email.
Except for the guy who asked me what other ideas I had. Which made me laugh. Because he doesn’t realize that I have well organized outlines for about 10 more books on my computer waiting for my attention, and about 100 loose threads that are waiting in the corners of my mind for their turn to be woven into something that makes sense. And beyond that there’s a slush pile of random story elements that could be something. Someday. So we’ll just put the lid back on that can of worms and move on.
Survival of the persistent I tell you. Someone has to tell all these stories. Make sense out of these pieces. I guess it's going to have to be me.
I’ll keep you posted.