Just sent my FINAL edits for Muse Unexpected to my Crescent Moon Press editor!! I am so incredibly thrilled, yet terrified. Next is cover art design and hopefully later this year I will be hosting my debut event. Stay tuned.- V.C.

The horrifying submission process

Hello everyone,

Sorry I’ve been away for a bit. I’ve been working through Muse, Unexpected final edits. I am excited to be so close to getting my first book published. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make this a longer than usual post.

Five years ago, when I began to write Muse, Unexpected, I thought writing my novel was going to be the most challenging part of my journey. I doubted myself constantly, wondering if I was good enough, wondering if my idea would interest anyone, feeling this immense drive to complete it. I had no idea what was driving me to write this story, but I had to finish it. 

The marketplace was saturated with Greek god young adult fiction. I remember one time walking past a Barnes and Noble and seeing a display for some mainstream published author, publishing yet another book of a young kid battling against the gods. This was three years into my novel and I almost set it aside, thinking I was wasting my time. Somehow, I managed to put these ill feelings aside and produced one of many versions of my novel. I felt I had achieved something great. I had several friends and colleagues read my novel and they all proclaimed it to be incredible. So with my chest puffed out and ego probably two sizes too big, I sat myself down and begun the…. Wait for it…. Wait for it…. Wait for it… the submission process.

Now, let me offer this, I knew the submission process would be hard. I mean, my gosh, poor J.K. Rowling had to submit her novel sixty plus times before someone decided she had something. So I prepared myself to get the usual, “thanks, but no thanks” responses. I figured it would take me maybe thirty submissions before an agent or publisher discovered that my novel was the next Harry Potter.

Yeah….

After I reached one hundred submissions, I changed my expectations and put my ego in check. 

Who knew a query letter made such a difference? And what the hell...a synopsis? Not just one synopsis, but several versions of a synopsis. You have your one pager, your two – three pager, and let’s not forget the eight plus pager! Are these people serious? I had just poured my blood, sweat and tears into my novel over the past five years. I felt my tale was way too complex to boil down into a single page synopsis.  I dreaded rewriting my query letter one more time. I was burnt out. WTF!

But something in the back of my mind kept pushing me on. My novel was good. Not perfect, but good. It had potential. I just had to find the right publisher or the right agent who believed in Muse, Unexpected. I stopped submitting my novel and took a break to do some research. Several writer friends pointed me in several directions to various websites that offered submission advice. I adjusted and readjusted and then readjusted my readjusted query letter. It couldn’t be two pages, it needed to be one. It couldn’t be too formal because it needed to be written in my voice. It needed to explain to the potential publisher or agent who I was and why they should select my novel, out of the thousands they receive each year. I needed to be smart, but relentless. With a reenergized attitude, I sat back down at my desk and started again.

When I hit two hundred submissions, I threw my coffee mug (one I didn’t care much for, it was ugly) against the wall, smashing it. I keep a small, broken piece of that mug to remind me of my journey and how humble I needed to be. So, I took another break and found an editor to help tame my novel. It started out at 126,000 words.

(Go ahead. Laugh. It was a bloated novel full of page upon page upon page of unnecessary descriptions that one publisher called lyrical, but unnecessary. ) This kindly and very generous publisher offered some advice and a small critique of my novel. She stated, “This was a very hard decision for me. But, I’m going to have to pass and I want to tell you why I’m passing.” She wrote my novel had great potential, but was nowhere near ready for publishing. She cited various examples of where she thought it needed help and strongly suggested I work with an editor to tighten it up. She was also kind enough to offer a suggestion of an editor she has worked with on a consultant basis. I was heartbroken that after so many years my novel was still a wreck, but had hope. She saw the potential and stated she believed in my talent.

Four months later I had a new novel, totaling 87,000 words. It was my voice, but improved. The story was darker…much darker as I placed my characters in more peril. I was sure I had something. This was it.

When I hit three hundred submissions I cried. I still hadn’t found the right home. Rejection letters began to develop a new level of sting as I became depressed. I was kidding myself. I had spent money I didn’t have on an editor that appeared to make no difference. I didn’t have any talent. 

I was sick, and to make matters worse, getting my book published was turning into an unhealthy obsession. My partner, Joel, suggested I take a break from it and forced me to give up my laptop and focus on us. You see, my novel had become the third person in our relationship and I was hurting the person I loved the most. So I took a break. Several months went by without me making a single submission. Not that the rejections stopped because I had submitted so many queries that agents and publishers were finally catching on their workload.

A co-worker suggested that I send my book to her niece, while another suggested I send it to her daughter. (Just to get a true, young adult opinion on it.) I did, expecting both girls to toss the book away. The last thing I expected them to do was finish reading the book. The very last thing I expected them to do was to finish it in three days.

They loved the book. One girl of the ripe old age of twelve proclaimed it as the best book she has ever read. (I laughed a little at her statement.) The other stated she identified with the main character Sophie and her struggles with self-esteem. They wanted to know when it was going to be published. I told them, soon.

So I decided to give myself two months. Two more months of submissions and if Muse, Unexpected hadn’t found a home by then, I would self-publish. Two more months of what I was sure would be rejections.

I sat at my desk and wondered what I could change. I wasn’t going to change the novel. I needed to have faith in something. I decided it had to be my query letter. So I did some additional research, reviewed it, and tightened it up. I also looked at my dreaded synopsis and refined it some more. 

I took a deep breath and began submitting, again. Rejection… rejection…rejection…rejection…not for me, no thanks, please keep on trying since this is a subjective business…blah blah blah. Regardless of the reaction I got, I continued on. 

I took a break for about a week, realizing I was coming to the end of my two month milestone. My heart sank. While I was down in my basement, doing some laundry, I came across a box of letters that my mother had written to me. At the time they were written, I was struggling with the decision of whether or not I should quit the ballet and go to college. My mother wrote, “From the day you were born, I saw such incredible determination in your eyes. I knew whatever you put your mind to, you would accomplish. Realize no matter which you choose, I will continue to be so incredibly proud of you. Make a decision and never look back. What if’s are not for you.”

My mother was right. So I kept calm and carried on. Rejection...Rejection…Rejection…and Rejection. Thanks, but no thanks, Not for me, Not for us, Not for anyone, Don’t quit your day job…

Finally reaching the end of my two month period, I decided to self-publish and amazingly enough I felt okay about it. Maybe my work wasn’t for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t main stream. It didn’t make it bad. It just made it my own. This was great. Nowadays everyone is self-publishing.

Buzzzz, buzz… My cell phone kept on buzzing, which meant I had received an email. I happened to be at work and decided to check it on my computer. I saw three responses in my inbox.

1. Thanks, but no thanks.
2. Not for us.
3. We would love to offer you a contract. Are you still interested in publishing your novel?

Holy Shit! I read the email again. Called a coworker over to read it to make sure I wasn’t having a stroke. 

There it was. Crescent Moon Press had requested my full manuscript and had fallen in love with it. I sat there for a while, staring at the email, wondering, what I should do now.

My friend/ co-worker said, “You might want to say yes.”

More to come.

V.C.