A while ago, I decided to write a young adult novel. I had a whole creative writing degree from a university with a stellar English department, and a compelling idea that had been percolating since I was a kid. I’d been writing professionally in one capacity or another for much of my career. It wasn’t a totally insane decision.
But it didn’t take me long to figure out that degree and all, the only way to learn to write a book is to write a book. And the only way to learn how to get the damn thing traditionally published is to find a community of writers, agents and editors who are willing to share their wisdom.
I had the great good fortune to find that community on Twitter during its last days of true Twitterdom. I participated in pitch contests, observed various writers’ journeys, and practiced writing query letters. I learned that if I could not get my plot down to a tweet-length pitch then the problem was my plot. I drafted and redrafted and killed a graveyard’s worth of darlings.
Throughout, I didn’t quite dare imagine that this would all work out, especially because the more I learned about publishing, the more evident it became that it’s INCREDIBLY FUCKING DIFFICULT to get traditionally published. When I’m trying to describe this to various non-writers in my life, I often say that it’s like a high school basketball player trying to make it to the NBA. It’s not literally impossible! But there are sooooooo many more aspiring writers than there are book deals available to them.
Nevertheless, my hoop dreams wouldn’t die. I kept getting little nuggets of feedback that raised my hopes, like a big-deal agent liking a pitch in a contest I was participating in just for practice, or getting personalized “I was so impressed with this, but” query responses. Beta readers were often way more enthused than they needed to be.
Then, the big moment, the one that delivered the outcome that I had so fervently wished for even while trying to make peace with the fact that it was so vanishingly unlikely to ever actually occur.
I participated in the very last #DVPit. And I got a “like” from Marcy Posner.
This was cause for much celebration, but also, I’d gotten likes from superstar agents before (and as soon as I looked up Marcy, I realized she was a superstar). So it was tempered. I participated in #DVPit because it was at the center of much of my Twitter education and this would be the last one, but I wasn’t sure that my latest revision was entirely ready.
The “like” meant that Marcy wanted the synopsis and the first fifty pages; I sent that posthaste. Not even two weeks later I got the full request, and again, it wasn’t my first full request (I just checked, it was my 11th!) but there was something about this that felt very promising and I was getting more hopeful than usual. It also felt like a sign (see: my title!) that the agent’s name was Marcy, which is also the name of a school which had an outsized influence on me. (If you’ve heard of the band Marcy Playground, yeah, that Marcy!)
Not even a month after the full request (or: stupendously fast for the publishing world), Marcy sent me a “revise and resubmit” request. And I freaked.
There was the fact that it was from such a big-deal agent. There was the fact that R&Rs are super rare. But the thing that really sent me into the stratosphere was how detailed and insightful Marcy’s and her wonderful assistant Jess Macy’s suggested changes were. I nodded my way through the email, agreeing with every single thing, even big things that would require big changes.
An R&R means that an agent is on the cusp of offering representation–the manuscript just isn’t there yet, but the agent thinks that it could get there if X, Y and Z are adequately addressed.
I immediately plunged into addressing X, Y, and Z. I had a job and a ton on my plate, but gears were turning. The new directions I was being sent in were so clearly better, and I didn’t want to do anything but write.
Still, even with dedicating my every spare moment to writing (and many non-spare moments), these were not small changes, and finishing the new draft took me many months. But then finally, finally, it was ready. I submitted it and attempted to breathe and go about my life like a regular person who doesn’t check email every 30 seconds.
And not even a month after that–not even a month! –I got my offer.
It wasn’t “the call,” probably since I’m deaf! It was an email.
I was in the kitchen making dinner and happened to check my phone and a notification popped up saying there was a new email from Marcy Posner and I died.
I paced around hyperventilating (nearly) and turning off burners and Schroedinger’s-catting it all. If I wait to open the email and it’s a rejection, I thought, then I am doing myself a kindness by extending the time in which I have a reasonable hope. But what if it’s an offer?
Obviously, I had to check, and then there was a lot of “oh-my-god”-ing and crying. Seriously one of the top ten moments of my life. Five?
I can’t overstate how fervently and how often I had hoped for this outcome, nor how thoroughly unlikely I understood it to be. Getting an agent is only a step in the process, yes, but it’s a hugely important one. Agents don’t get paid unless they sell your manuscript, and they’re busy people. They have to be quite confident that the manuscript will sell in order to offer representation, and I’d determined that Marcy was someone who had enough knowledge and experience that her confidence meant a lot.
I drafted my response–yes, yes, a thousand times yes–and made myself sit on it for a bit, just out of principle. I try not to do anything too life-changing when I’m in the midst of extreme emotion. But the emotion wasn’t exactly ebbing, I’d already thoroughly researched Marcy, and I re-read my draft email a dozen times and didn’t see any egregious errors, so I hit that “send” button after about five minutes. Not much sitting.
Then came the paperwork and the Zoom call! And once it was all signed and official, I started telling people. But didn’t update my website, so I’m finally rectifying that!
Because of the wonderful community of people who showed me the way, I already knew that signing the contracts was not the end of the line. The manuscript was in a good place, but it could be in a better place, and Marcy and Jess had some advice for me about how to get it there.
And again, the advice was truly stellar. Writing is such a solitary affair, and it’s been so lovely to have such smart people engage with my story. Jess has been amazing and has offered so many suggestions that paid off, big time.
The current expectation is that the revision I just sent them a bit ago will be the thing that goes on submission! That’s when Marcy will start actively shopping the manuscript around and various publishers will have a chance to look at it and see if they want to buy it. We expect to enter that phase imminently. That’s a calm sentence but I am not very calm about it, believe me. Still, I know that this is yet another hurdle in this whole process, and that nothing is guaranteed. Cross your fingers for me!
A standard feature of these HIGMA blog posts is numbers. Depending on how you count, I got an agent on my 35th try or my first try! Marcy was the 35th agent I had contact with in any capacity (queries, pitch contests), but she was the only agent to see the significantly revised draft that caused her to offer representation! And agents number 1-20 or so on this list were from very early on, when I strongly suspected the book wasn’t ready but I was jumping into the fray to gather feedback and information. I’m grateful to the many agents who did share their thoughts.
The only way to learn how to write a book is to write a book, yes, but the core of this book was not one I could give up, so I just ended up rewriting the entire thing, front to back. There are maybe ten sentences that are undisturbed from the first version. Many people talk about finally getting an agent on their second or third book. This is arguably my third book, it’s just that it has the same premise, characters, and setting as the first and second books!
My first version (‘book one”) established most of those central elements but was way the heck too long at 120K words. The second version (“book two”) was a much more reasonable length after drastic cutting and restructuring but the new antagonist didn’t work and it had pacing issues. The third version (“book three”) brought back the original antagonist, fixed the pacing issues, and switched from one love interest to another. That last bit was at Marcy and Jess’ recommendation, and while it took me a while to get my head around it, they were so right.
Now I finish my submission materials, and soon will enter a new phase of waiting and hoping!
Misc:
- Since this is not mentioned in the actual text above, my book is called SIGNS & PORTENTS. It’s a YA fantasy.
- If you’re wondering why I didn’t learn to write a book when I got a whole degree in that subject, I did learn how to write, generally, but I focused on short stories, not entire books. And wow are entire books different from short stories.
- I’ve seen HIGMA posts that included more details like the actual query letter, how to figure out which agents to query, etc. Trying to keep this from getting too-too long but I’m very happy to respond to questions about that sort of thing. I’ve received so much wonderful advice and I enjoy paying it forward!
- If this gets all the way to publication, I am going to list so many people in the acknowledgments, and I don’t want to be too repetitive, but I feel like I can’t get through this post without thanking at least Sara Nović for her advice, friendship, and nudge for me to apply for the Anderson Center’s Deaf Artist’s Residency; DAR itself and all of my lovely DAR cohort, but especially Charlie Ainsworth for his infinite readings of book snippets, his amazing insights, and his unflagging support; and my daughter Sophie for the huge amount of feedback, help, and enthusiasm she’s provided from the very beginning of this whole project. And even though this is getting long I gotta get my best beta readers Katherine Taylor and Ruby Gentile in there too, y’all rock.
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