Tough Broads

Original photograph by Dr. Charles Hose, Hutchinson, H. N.; WikimediaCommons

Original photograph by Dr. Charles Hose, Hutchinson, H. N.; WikimediaCommons

A friend of mine got a rejection today. Damn. I know how that feels. So bloody disappointing. You send your query, maybe with pages, to an agent. Maybe you’re counting on this agent. Maybe she’s The One. In your mind, it’s make or break time: if she says yes, you’re home free. If not. . .

Like I said, Damn..

I met this person through AbsoluteWrite. She’s been there for me, many times. Too many to count. We both know the drill: in this writing business, you have to take risks and you have to be willing to accept disappointment. Sometimes, deep disappointment. Sometimes your best efforts won’t be good enough. Even with a great novel, it’s a crap shoot. Heck, a bad cup of coffee might start off your dream agent’s shitty day, the very the day she decides to read your manuscript. So many variables out of your control come into play. It’s not just about you and your wonderful book, even if it should be.

But knowing all that doesn’t ease the disappointment sometimes. Sometimes, you get a rejection and if feels like hope is getting sucked right out of your marrow.

I hope my friend can stand tough. Regardless, I’m standing with her because I believe in her and her work, even if she doesn’t right now. I want to tell her, Sometimes you falter, start doubting yourself, doubting your chances. Sometimes you need somebody to step up, hold you up.

At least, offer you a little support–

You’ve done it for me, babe. Let me be the tough broad today.

.

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6 thoughts on “Tough Broads

  1. It’s so awful, isn’t it?! The waiting, the wondering, the self-doubt that creeps in. You are ahead of me, kkellie — I’m still in the revision phase, on pins and needles each time I send a chunk out to my wonderful crit partners and then wondering, gosh, do they hate it? Are they just too polite to tell me that it stinks? It must be like exposing yourself, bare-naked, to the whole world to send something out to a publisher and then have to wait for the answer. It probably doesn’t mean much (even less, considering that I’m not a publisher myself), but I’ve read your work on AW and think it’s fabulous. Fingers crossed for you! –Donna Gough

    • I’ve been where you are now. Talk about feeling open and exposed–I bet it’s like that every step of the way.

      After I wrote that post with my friend in mind, I opened my emails and saw another rejection. Sometimes I wonder how many “Thanks but this is not for us,” comments it’s going to take before I declare my case hopeless.

      A lot more, I hope–for me, you, those of us who are putting it out there, getting nibbles or bites or nothing at all. Thank you, Donna, for shoring me up tonight. I wish you all the best with your work.

      xo kk

  2. I haven’t had a novel rejection yet, but I’ve been preparing for a blog like that with all of my short story rejections 😉

    We writers DO have to be tough broads. Nobody’s going to do it for us, though there are people (like you!) who can help with the leaning when necessary.

    • And you, Jen. You are correct, this ain’t for sissies. 🙂

      But it’s good to have a leaning post once in while, somebody who’s tough when the going gets that way.

      ❤ kk

  3. Just checked in today to see how you are making out with Effin’ Albert. Don’t lose heart. It took many rejections and a lot of self-doubt before I sold my historical novel. Hang in there. It’ll happen.

    • Linnea, thank you. I am sending queries out, still waiting on that first bite. Kind of crazy. Right now, I’m at that “many rejections and a lot of self-doubt” phase but I’m trying not to wallow in that. Instead, I’m writing a bit and continuing to query both ALBERT and CHERRY. I recently had another full request for CHERRY so that helps a lot.

      I apologize for the long stretch of silence on this blog, I haven’t felt like I have too much of interest to say of late. Hopefully, I’m getting to the end of that dry spell. You writing to me, taking the time to do that, might have been just what the doctor ordered. A tonic for the soul.

      Thank you again, Linnea.

      xoxo kk

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