In Query Hell? Give Yourself a Fist Bump!

Query Hell

For those of you in query hell, please know, I feel your pain. I was there not long ago, and I easily recall the distress of obsessively checking my email and excel spreadsheet, and stalking, I mean researching, agents on their blogs, Twitter, Publisher's Marketplace, AgentQuery.com, Google, QueryTracker, blah, blah, blah.

Being the oddball that I am, I actually enjoyed querying. Let me clarify: I enjoyed the part where I reworked every word on my query until it sparkled like a diamond, the part where I personalized my introductions, and the part when I hit the "send" button. In other words, I liked the parts I had control over. The parts I didn't have control over? Not so much.

Rejection Sucks
There's really no nicer way to say it. Rejection sucks - it's brutal, horrifying, and ego-crushing. On the other hand, being asked for partials or fulls never loses its luster.

Let me explain:

1) I recently got a pass on a full of my murder mystery MURDER ON TWILIGHT CIRCLE (MTC) by an agent who'd had it since last July. (I informed her I was offered representation for my YA novel, but she asked to read the murder mystery, anyway.) My stomach sank.

2) I also recently got a request for the first 75 pages and a synopsis for MTC. The query was sent last August. I gave myself a pat on the back.

As you know, I signed with Bernadette Baker-Baughman aka, "Awesome Agent" of Baker's Mark Literary Agency in November. My point is, I have an agent so none of this matters, right? Right! So why did I feel happy about the request and unhappy about the pass? Because I'm human and have an [abnormally large] ego. The emotions are still there, though thankfully, not quite as pronounced.

Fist Bump, Baby!
If you're in Query Hell, give yourself a fist bump. Why? Because you're pursuing your dreams. I'm not kidding, do it! Did you do it? Good. Because, you, my friends, are special. There are many folks out there who don't pursue their dreams for one "good" reason or another. It's true they never suffer the indignity of a rejection, but they also never experience the deep satisfaction of going for it.

We're All In This Together
Simply put, you are not alone. I'm not saying there are definitely other life forms "out there," I'm just saying we really are all in this thing together. And by thing, I mean, life.

I'd love to hear about your experiences, emotions, viewpoints on the querying process. And, best of luck to all along your journey. ;-)

I'll Send an SOS to the World...

Is it just me, or does this picture look suspiciously like a phallic symbol?

It's amazing how starting a new book sets off the doubting Thomasinas in my mind. How do I do this? What makes me think I can do this? How can this book possibly be as good as the last? Will I ever get to 80,000 words? What the hell was I thinking????

For the most part, I'm an upbeat, confident, optimistic person. But every now and then, I feel like I did in high school... Does anybody like me? Am I popular? Will I succeed in life? Am I like a totally lame dweeb, dude? Will I have a date for Friday night? Where the hell did I leave my stash?

Part of my self-doubt has to do with the carnival query ride I'm on. I've had 6 partial requests, 3 full requests, and 14 passes on MURDER ON TWILIGHT CIRCLE, so every few days I'm either up or down on that fun-filled roller coaster ride. Plus, I'm completely impatient and a bit of a control freak (okay, a TOTAL control freak), and those traits don't bode well in the publishing biz, no they don't bode well at all.

Judging from past experience, the further I get into the book, the more my confidence will rise. I just finished the third chapter, and am about 7,000 words in. Once I figure out how the victim got whacked and who did it, I'll be fine. I know who she is, I'm just not sure who'd want to kill her or why. I mean I have some ideas, but I'm not quite there yet. After all, she's a perfectly lovely lady, drop-dead gorgeous (bad pun, I know), plays tennis, watches her neighbor's kids, gets regular facials at the spa. What's not to like? Until I figure out the mystery, be glad you're not my husband, kids, or kitties, because I'll be like a totally neurotic mess, dude!

Of course, once the WORLD'S HOTTEST LITERARY AGENT who's meant to represent me finally stops playing hard to get and shows him/herself, then all will be well in my world.

That is, until I start the next book...

So, I'm sending out an SOS to the world. Is this the same for any of you? Words of wisdom? Specific names of bridges to jump off of? Poison to drink? Chocolate to eat? New shoes to buy? Should I call The Police and ask their advice? I'm sure Sting could stop riding his horse on his huge-ass English estate for like five minutes to give me some words of wisdom. I mean, it wouldn't kill him or anything. (Why does everything in my life lately revolve around killing and murder?)

Anyway, you get the picture. I NEED HELP!!!!