Beware Self-Doubt in Query Phase

I’m in that foggy phase of writing–I’ve seen my child off into the wide world (I’d say wide, wide world except I haven’t yet queried most of the agents I’ve selected) and am having trouble letting go of it in order to turn around and conceive another. It’s as if Laps is out there wandering in the mist and I’m trying to get a fix on her, keep track of her progress…but the fog gets in the way.

During this phase, it’s important to redouble my goals and not succumb to self-doubt. One day I will get an agent and be published, I am sure. Of course, I’m more sure of that when my baby is closer at hand (as in, I’m in the middle of writing it). Once it’s out there, I have to fend off the little devil in my mind that says, “Forget about all this hassle. Stay in full control and self-publish. Let your audience find you.” I have named this little devil “Spam”–an acronym for Self Publishing Argument Monster.

Thanks to Publishers Weekly, and particularly author Zoe Winters, the following video has helped drive away Spam today:

Originally posted 2010-07-14 15:26:51.

The Kindest Rejection of All

Having sent out 8 queries so far (most of which I emailed only two days ago), and receiving two kind form rejections and one glorious request for my full manuscript, I am in that most uncomfortable state as a writer: awaiting judgment.

I know, I know…I need to put those thoughts aside and get on with my next WIP. And I will. I simply need a few days to breathe.

In the meantime, I lie awake at nights, my mind grasping for the next big idea (because the one I had now seems too daunting), fiddling around with fantasies of success, and worrying over whether I’ve done everything I could to be prepared for the best…or the worst.

I don’t envy agents and I know they really do want to find treasures among all the queries they receive. I’m convinced of this because they usually lay it all out so plainly for us. They tell us upfront what they’re interested in, and they often bend over backwards to give us clues (in blogs, interviews, appearances at writers conferences, etc.) to the kinds of queries that turn them off and the kinds that catch their attention.

Still, they have to write so many rejection letters that they’ve had to come up with form rejection letters for use in most cases. Even those form rejection letters ooze with remorse. I think they really do feel our pain.

I can’t recall where I came across this some years ago, but I call it the “kindest” rejection letter I’ve ever read. It was supposedly from a Chinese magazine (which makes all kinds of sense, because Asians are more concerned with saving face–either their own or another’s–than being honest):

We have read your manuscript with boundless delight. If we were to publish your paper, it would be impossible for us to publish any work of a lower standard. And as it is unthinkable that, in the next thousand years, we shall see its equal, we are, to our regret, compelled to return your divine composition, and to beg you a thousand times to overlook our shortsightedness and timidity.

Maybe we should all move to China.

Originally posted 2010-07-07 09:57:36.