THE ONE WITH THE GOLDILOCKS SALE
(not too fast, not too slow)
Cat/genre: YA Fantasy
As any author pursuing traditional publication will probably tell you, going on sub is both thrilling and nightmarish. Some people sell fast, with hardly any time to stress—some never sell at all. Going in, it's impossible to know what your experience is going to look like. Because no matter what your agent says (hopes?), no one really knows what's going to sell until an editor sends that golden email.
My experience, as it turned out, was somewhere in the middle. I queried for years before getting an agent, and that was a whole different type of stress. In a way, I think it helped me prepare for sub: I was no stranger to being let down. One of my manuscripts received over twenty agent requests, then four R&Rs, before going nowhere. That was a hard pill to swallow. I was so sure that story would be the one. But it was the subsequent manuscript—book number eight!—that got me my offer of representation. The funny thing about that book? I was so completely not prepared for it to be the one that got me an agent. I wrote it in a daze at the start of the pandemic, still miserable from the heartbreak of shelving my previous manuscript. Of course, at this point in my writing journey, everything I wrote was with the intention of getting an agent. I’m not trying to say I made less of an effort, or that I had a lucky break. But I had no feeling of conviction that told me this would be the one.
Clearly I have terrible gut instincts.
After I signed with my agent, and they indicated we were finished with revisions, it was hard not to think, this is it. My pandemic-panic book, my rebound novel (as I came to think of it), had gotten me closer than ever to achieving the goal of publication. I just had to get through the final hurdle: submission.
One thing I love about my agent? They weren’t overconfident. Yes, they thought they could sell my book—why else would they have signed me?—but they told me flat out that young adult fantasy was becoming harder to sell in an over-crowded market. They told me I simply had to be patient.
This is not one of my virtues.
That said, I did my best to temper my expectations. I had my editor list in hand, and had pretended to look it over (I knew absolutely nothing about editors). We had a plan. Somehow, we were going to sell this book.
And then there was… nothing.
Now, this was nearing the end of 2020. We went on submission in late November, and my agent fully expected that many responses wouldn’t come in until the new year. Still, I couldn’t help but hope that someone would be interested enough to read my book ASAP. Each editor on the list had requested the full manuscript, but my agent told me that was pretty standard. It wasn’t anything to get excited about.
Then the passes came in. Each of them very complimentary, but with similar feedback.
“I already have something like this on my list.”
“We’re having trouble with young adult fantasy right now.”
“I’m not sure how to make it stand out in a crowded market.”
All valid reasons for passing—I know what young adult publishing looks like right now. YA fantasy is saturated. Of course, I’m a huge fan of the genre, so I’m not complaining. But what if they were right? What if nothing about my book, regardless of how much they liked it, was going to stand out?
Then, amidst the kind passes, we got a message from an editor at an imprint I was really excited about. They were really enjoying the book, and wanted to show it to their team.
I was over the moon. This was excellent news, right? If this editor was a fan of my book, surely they would be able to convince their team it was worth pursuing!
Wrong.
Week after painful week passed, and then so did the editor. Their team’s response? They simply didn’t see a way to make my book stand out.
My agent was an absolute champ. They nudged regularly, and kept me updated every step of the way (as per my request). When an editor showed interest, they used that to try and drum up more. It appeared to work—editors started to read more quickly—but they were still passing. The worst part was, nobody had any critique. None of them cited any specific problem with my book. They didn’t point to anything that needed to be changed. In fact, most of them were extremely complimentary, or at the very least, just not passionate enough about the story to take it on. There was nothing I could do about that. And without anything actionable, I began to feel hopeless.
Months passed. My agent was sending to more editors as the initial ones passed, but we were starting to near the end of my list (approx 25 in all). By this time, we were heading into March. Now, I know that may not sound very long, but we were moving through my sub list fast. My agent knew I was angling for a deal from a big 4 publisher, and if I didn’t get it, I was going to let the book go. I was already working on something else, and mentally, I had moved on. My next project was nearing completion, and we could try again. I was miserable, but it was going to be okay.
And then we got an email. It was one of the very first editors we’d sent to, and I’d honestly pinned them as a non-response. Based on the other books they had acquired, I really didn’t see them being interested in mine. But they were, and they were taking the book to their team.
My agent leapt into action. They asked if the editor wanted to set up a call. In the end, the plan was this: if the editor’s team agreed to push my book through to acquisitions, I would have a call with them the following week. If the team said no, I would still have a call—but it would be with my agent, discussing what we were going to do from here.
It was, quite literally, make or break. My book was going to get the green light, or I was going to tell my agent I was ready to move on.
If you’re wondering whether that was the most stressful week of my life, the answer is yes.
Finally, the day arrived. I got an email from my agent, and my heart sank. I don’t know why; I was already assuming the worst. But when I opened it, I saw they had set up a zoom call with the editor.
A couple of days later, I had the call. It was great. I loved the editor’s ideas for edits, and my agent was there to ask the hard-hitting questions. The editor was so excited about my book, and had the kind of passion I could only hope for. They were going to take my book to acquisitions, and their hopes were high.
So were mine. I wish I could say I played it cool. I knew, I knew books got rejected at acquisitions all the time. But the editor had seemed so confident, so keen, and I couldn’t help but feel that they were going to make it work. I knew they would go to bat for my work.
Did I say that last week was the most stressful week of my life? I was lying. This was the one. I was so close I could taste it. I felt as if I was going to combust for over a week straight.
I had just started a new job at that time, and on my third day, I was eating lunch when an email came in.
My agent wanted to set up a call. She had good news.
I stopped breathing. Here I was, surrounded by people I didn’t know yet—people who had no idea I was a writer, let alone that I was waiting to hear whether I had sold a book—and I didn’t even know how to react. To say the rest of the day was torture would be an understatement.
When I got home, I finally took the call from my agent. After nearly six months on sub, we had an offer.
At that point, I didn’t even care what it was. They could have offered me ten dollars and half a cheese sandwich. I was too excited to even cry—all I could do was pace around my house in shock. It was the best. My agent forwarded the offer details (after negotiating a better deal for me, because they are the best), and I was all too happy to accept.
And that, my friends, is the sub story. Just under half a year, a rapid-fire round of rejections, and an eventual offer from an editor I’d already written off. Will my book stand out? Who knows! But all you need is someone who loves it enough to ensure it has a fighting chance, even if that person is unexpected.
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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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