I have a short story (or is it a tall tale?)to tell of wildly misplaced expectations and missed deadlines on my journey to publish my debut novel.
This time last year I relaunched this blog with a debut post in which I jumped up and down with glee over having finished writing my novel … or as I came to understand it, my first draft.
At the time, I didn’t have a five-year plan for the book. I had a one-year plan, followed by a second-year plan that was a little hazy, given that it hinged on the first-year plan getting done.
It didn’t. Get done, that is.
Back last November, the months ahead (as planned) looked to be full of a lot of editing of that first draft, so that by June, in time for the Historical Novel Society conference, my book would be in great shape and I’d be ready to pitch it to an agent. By April, I realized that given the glacial pace at which the editing was going, I would not make that crucial June deadline. My book would not be ready to pitch to an agent. Not even close.
Had it been, I would have returned home and gotten busy contacting literary agents with my plea to take on my book and sell it to publishers. It can be a lengthy process, this getting an agent business. If I could do it on my own, I would (read, I really would not), but reality is, if you want to get your book picked up by a publisher, you need an agent. It’s like going to court; if you want to win, you need a lawyer. Had my one-year plan gone according to plan, I figured I’d still be looking for an agent right about now and trying not to get in a funk about not getting any yeses. The second year of this now defunct one-year plan had me wheeling and dealing, or whatever one does, with a publisher, and life would be good.
And all this time, I would be writing this weekly blog with scintillating stories of how my book journey was coming along, from writing word one to getting published. I thought it might prove useful; for what, I’m not sure, but that doubt did not stop me. But if all I’ve got to report week after week after week is “Whoopee, I got rid of another 520 words,” there’s not much grist for the blog mill, in terms of book talk.
But this week there is. I entered my first book contest yesterday. I wasn’t going to enter … I was too busy editing the book and focused on getting the word count down to be distracted by a contest. However, last week when they sent a reminder of the imminent contest deadline, they mentioned that the winner in each category would receive a free ticket to next year’s conference in Ireland. Yes!! Just the incentive I needed to break from my editing routine and spend the week putting my package together to submit: They wanted the first 3,000 words, which in my case is my first chapter, and an 800-word synopsis. Done and submitted.
Unlike my first-year plan, I don’t hold any wildly misplaced expectations about winning, but I do remind myself that, at least in this case, I did make deadline.
This week, some Simon and Garfunkel …
Leave a Reply