I’ve had something of a revolution going on inside the past couple of weeks. I’m cleaning out the old regime that has been ruling my writing mind with a cruel hand. Basically, I’ve come to an important realization. One I want to share, on the chance that someone else might be going through the same thing.
Ever since I started querying, I took great pride in my “realistic” approach to it all. I wasn’t over emotional. I wasn’t blinded by my love for my own stories.
Me: Sure rejections sting a bit, but they don’t rule me. I make all of my choices based on a calm, rational approach. If I stop querying a book after 20 queries, that’s because I have gauged the market, and can see it simply isn’t right. No problem. On to the next. I’m barely even sad about it.
Man, was I full of it.
What I’ve realized in the past few months is that I stopped querying books because rejections, in fact, HURT LIKE HELL. They did rule me. Especially the rejections on requested materials. They hurt, but I wouldn’t even admit how much. Deep, DEEP down, I told myself that these requests must mean my story stinks so why don’t stop making an idiot of myself and TRUNK it. But at the surface level, I applauded myself on how “realistic” and “rational” I was being.
And that was the big lie, guys.
Well, no longer. Things are going to change. I’m putting a halt on my WiP for a while. Instead, I’ve got some apologizing to do. I’m turning to the three novels I poured my heart, sweat, and tears into . . . only to trunk after a very half-hearted querying round. I’m turning to them because they are NOT crap. They are actually really good! And they deserve a real chance. I need to give them a chance.
And so I will. I’m going to be honest with myself from now on. Both on how much the rejections hurt me, but also, most importantly, on how GOOD my writing can be.
So to end on a high note, watch this, and repeat after me: