THE ONE WHERE THE HAPPY ENDING SOURED
Category/genre: Adult commercial, YA horror, Adult literary/historical
Grab yourself a snack, because this is going to be a long one.
I drafted my first novel for nanowrimo back in 2003 (an adult commercial novel). I rewrote and revised for about two and a half years, and then I started querying. I queried for over a year, amassing a lot (a LOT) of form rejections, but during that year I continued to revise and rewrite, polish and polish, until I got kinder and kinder rejections, and finally—YAY—I got an offer of representation in 2008. Let's call this manuscript 1 (MS1) and agent 1 (A1). A1 said that the MS was very clean (thanks to all that revision), so they sent it out right away. We started with eight editors, but they reassured me they had plans for a second round, should it be necessary. I wasn't worried—everyone had told me that getting an agent was the hard part! If your book was good enough to get an agent, of course it would have no trouble finding a publisher. (Yes yes, go ahead and laugh.) A1 said they would notify me only when we had good news. This was fine by me—after a year in the query trenches, I'd had all I could take of rejection, and was happy to be spared any more.
So I waited . . . and waited . . . first with excitement, then with growing trepidation. At last I checked in with my agent: six passes, two no shows. Oh well, time for round 2, right? Nope. My agent pointed out that three of the passes had similar complaints about the structure of the book. They suggested I revise with that in mind.
But well, structure isn't an easy thing to fix. It's the very bones of the book! I could see the editors had a point, but I couldn't see how to fix it without severely changing the story. And by that time, I was well into a shiny new WIP. I decided to shelve MS1 and focus on the WIP (MS2).
I pitched MS2 to my agent, but they didn't rep YA, so they told me to find someone else. Though this was a totally reasonable thing to say, I took it like a punch to the stomach. It had taken so long and been *so* emotionally grueling just to get my first agent, I didn't think I could bear to go through that again.
Luckily, I didn't have to: I finished up a solid draft of MS2 in late 2008 and by Jan 2009 I had another offer of representation! Unfortunately, there were some red flags. A2 thought my book had potential, but they didn't love it. They had pretty major revision suggestions that did NOT sit well with me. And they didn't seem to really *get* what the book was about. Still, theirs was the only offer I had, and I *really* wanted to be published, so I convinced myself to trust their expertise and just do what they said. Secretly, I promised myself that once the book sold, I'd share my original vision with my editor and we'd move the book back in that direction. (Writers—don't ever do this!!) Anyway, I gritted my teeth and got to work on A2's revisions. After a few months, A2 was satisfied (and I was miserable), so we went on sub.
We went out to ten people, and over the next few months, rejections rolled in. This was depressing of course, but it was also perversely satisfying—I felt like it proved I'd been right about A2's revisions, and that we would have been better off following my own vision. I told my agent not to send out any more subs while I worked on another revision. In early 2010, I got back to them with a compromise draft that I didn't hate, but still incorporated a lot of A2's ideas. And . . . A2 wrote back to say they had just turned in their resignation, and were leaving the business.
I was devastated. I had just spent months working on this new draft, and now I was back to step 1. Worse than step 1, in fact—who was going to want to look at my manuscript when it had already been rejected by so many people in the relatively small world of YA editors? I wanted to despair, but instead I got back to work. I revised again, this time according to MY vision, and when I was done, I had a much stronger manuscript that I truly believed in. And I dove back into the query trenches to try for a THIRD agent.
It took longer this time. Even though the manuscript was stronger, the concept was no longer as fresh and exciting as it was when I first started subbing, and that showed in the agent rejections I got. Then one day, I got an email from a name I'd never seen before—it turned out someone I queried was retiring, but she forwarded my query to another agent, who loved it. A3 quickly read my full and offered representation. And this time, I knew it was a much better match—we talked on the phone for over an hour, and unlike A2, A3 really *got* what I was going for. We also had similar communication styles, attitudes toward the business, and we just got along really well in general. And they genuinely loved the book! That felt great.
I explained to A3 about my failed sub with A2, but they were confident that they could overcome that obstacle. They came up with a list of new names, including some smaller indie presses, and we were back in business.
Things did go a bit better this time. One Big 5 editor requested a phone call which I was SO SURE was going to be an offer . . . but turned out to be an R&R. In the experience of my writer friends, none of these had ever turned into an offer, so it was hard to feel very positive about it. Plus, in the meanwhile, I had started an MFA program, and all my time and creative energy were going into that. I took some time to lick my wounds (and hope desperately that someone else would come through with an offer), but eventually I got down to work on the R&R. The revision suggestions were smart and in line with my vision, at least, so I didn't feel like I was compromising again.
A few months later, I sent my revision in. The editor loved it and took the book to acquisitions . . . but couldn't *quite* get everyone on board. Could I do yet another revision? Sigh. I got back to work. This time the revisions were not so in line with my vision, but they were also pretty minor, so I sucked it up. I turned the MS in *again*. It went back to acquisitions and . . . they loved it! They thought I'd done a great job incorporating their suggestions! They were so impressed with my writing! But the concept felt a little stale by this time so . . . pass.
*screams*
By this time, I was truly done. I *loved* this book, and my critique partners were also all super devoted to it, but it just felt like the writing was on the wall and the concept was dead dead dead. There was no point in flogging it anymore, and anyway, I had my MFA writing to work on. But my agent wasn't ready to give up. They continued to send to little presses, and we even got a tiny bit of interest (second reads, acquisition meetings), but none of it went anywhere.
And here's where my writing career takes a weird and unexpected detour. A friend from my online writing group got a job at the YA imprint of a Big 5 publisher. At first, they were just making photocopies and such, and couldn't help any of their writing friends. But eventually they were promoted and given permission to seek manuscripts to acquire (with a ton of oversight from their bosses, of course). My friend had read various drafts of MS2 and loved it, so I told my agent to send it to them—why not give it one last shot?
My friend enthusiastically took it to acquisitions, but the response was pretty much the what I expected: nice writing, but this concept is dead—the audience just isn't there for this kind of book anymore.
*sad trombone*
HOWEVER. Some months later my friend was tasked with managing a new IP Write for Hire concept. The publishing company wanted a series of YA horror novels, and my friend was supposed to find an author for them. The good part of Write for Hire is you get paid your advance upfront, before you've even written the book. Nice! The bad part is the royalties can be very low, and you often have to sign away all your rights—you don't even always get your name on the cover (though the exact terms will depend on the type of IP deal, size of the author etc. IP comes in many forms and contracts can really span the gamut). Anyway, my friend knew I loved horror movies and they asked me if I might have any ideas that fit this concept. HELL YEAH I said, and quickly brainstormed a story I knew they'd find cool.
I still had to audition for the position—I wrote a pitch, a synopsis, and a fifty-page sample and sent it in. My friend's bosses loved it (and they also remembered being impressed with MS2), so I got the gig. So, my first published novel actually came about in this completely alternate route that didn't involve going on sub at all!
After that first book, I went on to work on three more Write-for-Hire books , and eventually the publisher even bought a fully original novel from me—under my own name, with a normal contract.
So, this would be one place to end the story. Whatever else happens, I've had FIVE novels published with a Big 5 publisher. It's a huge accomplishment, and no one can take that away. And though none of the books made me a ton of money, all together I was actually able to support my household with my income from writing for a couple of years. Living the dream!
And yet.
None of those books was what I really dreamed of writing. Even the one under my own name was a fun project, but not really a "book of the heart". I still felt like I had stories I wanted to tell, things I wanted to say, that were never going to fit into the mold that press wanted. (Also, that original novel sold REALLY POORLY so it would be hard for me to overcome that sales record if I wanted to do another book in the same cat/genre).
Which brings us to MS3. Remember my MFA program? I had long since graduated, but I still had a rough draft of a novel that had served as my master's thesis. It was *very* rough, and it was a super ambitious (adult literary historical) concept that I wasn't at all sure I could pull off, but it had potential. I turned my attention to that.
I spent the next three years writing and rewriting MS3. It was *hard*. There were many times I almost abandoned it as just too difficult to complete, but I kept coming back to it. Eventually (in 2018) I had a draft that didn't completely suck, and I sent it to my agent (A3). And they told me it . . . still mostly sucked. But it had potential! I got back to work. After another year of revision, I sent it again, and they loved it! They had exactly the reaction I had hoped for. They got absolutely everything I was trying to do with it, and thought there was a market for it too. They had some light revision suggestions, and then there were various delays (pandemic and other stuff in both our lives), but we finally went on sub in summer of 2021 to a list of 24 editors—by far the biggest sub list I'd ever had before. But I felt it showed my agent's confidence in the book, which made me confident too. This was it—finally, at long last, this was the book that was truly going to show people what I was capable of as a writer. It was going to be big.
It wasn't big.
In fact, I started getting rejections almost right away, and many of them were . . . not very nice! Some were more politely worded, some less, but I figured out pretty quickly that there was a pacing problem. You see, just before we were supposed to go out on sub, my agent said that although they loved the book, they were concerned that the first chapter moved a bit slowly and wouldn't draw readers in. I agreed, but in my eagerness to get on sub quickly (and my confidence that the book would definitely sell), I worked quickly and carelessly and wound up cutting too much. It still made sense in terms of plot, but readers weren't getting a deep sense of the characters and the setting, which made the book feel slight and superficial (kiss of death for a literary novel). Out of that first 24, we had two editors who read to the end, one of whom seemed to strongly consider bringing it to acquisitions . . . But basically, the whole round of submissions was a dud. Worst of all, I felt like it was my fault for blowing this last-minute revision, and now I had blown my chance with SO MANY of the best suited editors for this book.
I got back to work, fixing my error and ALSO going over the whole manuscript with a fine-toothed comb, determined not to make the same mistake again. I fixed absolutely everything I could imagine being a problem, polished everything to a glossy shine. I even bought a subscription to Publisher's Weekly so I could help my agent research houses and editors, and hopefully give my book a second chance.
In February 2022, we went out to fifteen more editors, and we've gotten some of the nicest rejections I've ever seen. People love the writing, the concept, the ambition, the characters, the execution . . . And yet. It's just not quite making it over the hump. A bunch of places had either just acquired a historical, or weren't looking for one. Others were just a bad fit. Almost all said something like, "I can't wait to see where this winds up!"
Now it's been six months, and even the rejections have stopped. We're still technically out to eight people, but based on other people's stats, I think it's time to write them off as ghosts. I'm still scraping through PW, trying to piece together a few plausible names for a third round, but I admit, I'm not very hopeful at this point.
So, what happened? Almost twenty years since I started writing fiction, and I still feel like I'm "always a bridesmaid, never a bride."
Those five YA books I had published do help . . . One of them earned out its advance, one got a starred review, and one got me some truly lovely fan mail that means so much to me. But I also can't help feeling that, since I got all those deals through my friend, maybe I'm just not good enough to get published the normal way.
Or maybe it's my bio? Though I have an MFA now, I don't have any of the fancy residencies, grants, and prizes most literary debuts seem to have.
My agent thinks it might be because my book straddles literary and commercial, and editors don't know what to do with it.
Or maybe it really is because I blew my best chance by sending out a poorly revised manuscript on our first round.
I don't know the answer, and I'm afraid I'll never know the answer. Maybe it's my fault, or maybe it's publishing's problem, or maybe I was just unlucky.
I know I should just put my head down and work on the next book, but it's hard while I'm feeling so bitter and demoralized. How can I write another book when I have no reason to believe anyone will read it?
Right now, I'm just trying to give myself permission to grieve for MS3, and all the hopes I had pinned on it. Social media is so full of breezy success stories, there's not much of a guide for dealing with this agonizing kind of disappointment—but reading through all these sub stories has at least shown me that I'm in good company, and helped me feel less embarrassed of my failure. If my own story doesn't offer a promise of a light at the end of the tunnel, I hope it at least helps some other writers feel less alone in the dark.
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The stories on this blog are posted anonymously so that authors can speak candidly about their experience. If you have a sub story you’d like to share, drop me an email at: katedylanbooks@gmail.com
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