Last Sunday I had a talk with a friend of mine who was asking about my book. Specifically, she wanted to know why I wasn’t jumping out of bed every day and sending my query to all the best agents in town.
For those of you who aren’t writers, queries are one page summaries of your story. It’s your show piece that not only shows your voice, but shows your platform. What else have you written? How many followers do you have? Why are YOU the ONLY person to write this book?
Honestly, the above paragraph makes me want to tear my eyes out. It’s exhausting to even describe a query, let alone write it.
While I found my friend’s utter aplomb at my lack of query writing to be flattering, I also found it highly annoying. After all, does she have any idea what my year has looked like? Well, of COURSE she does. I’ve been telling her about it in excruciating detail day after day. I could complain (and I did – quite vociferously) about how “I’m only human! I only have so much time in a day! I can’t work and take care of kids and dogs and renters and husbands AND get a query done FOR DUCK SAKE!”
And while this is very true, I had to come to terms with a stronger truth inside of me. The truth was not that I didn’t think my book was good enough. The truth was that I was afraid that other people – big people – the agents and decision makers – wouldn’t think my book was good enough.
And to get even more real, I had subconsciously been living with a more tragic tape running through my brain: “They won’t find it brilliant because they won’t even take the time to read it.”
I pretty much said that out loud to her. “I don’t really think anyone is going to read it. What’s the point?”
She looked at me, hard. She had pity in her eyes and she didn’t hide it. “That’s sad,” was all she could muster.
Frankly, I can handle most things from people, but not pity. I can’t stand the victim thing. So, for sheer pride alone, I set out to work, and finger pointing at her. But I also did quite a bit of
healthy contemplation stewing about fear, success, love, self value, and Yuban. Why do I still drink so much coffee?
Five days later, I have a ton more insight as to how that tape got into my stupid brain. I’ll share it with you in my next post. I will do so less to be a narcissist and more to get you thinking about the messed up script you’ve been reading for far too long.
But first, I share with you this.
One big agent.
One strong, juicy, hairy query.
Two more followed.
Have I heard anything? Not a darn thing. But am I freaked out?
No way. I am so proud of myself for trying all the anxiety and panic is lifted. I am starting fresh. Hell, yes.