Well friends, it’s the week of February 2nd. When last we met, I promised to use that as my deadline to send out the first five queries (agent pitches) for my manuscript. I also promised you all an accountability post, which this is. But first…
The LAST Countdown Clock
It’s February 6th, 2025. Number of times I’ll need to update this nightmare-inducing graphic in Canva going forward:
Click here for more about the countdown.
Shouldn’t That Technically Read Negative Four?
Look, people...
I get it. It’s not the 2nd. But the 2nd was a Sunday, and no one wants to spend their Sunday reading emails! Most of us are hiding from anything resembling news these days, anyway. Besides, I’m not here to mess around with adding a minus sign to this thing.
After a YEAR of living under the tyranny of this self-inflicted countdown: It’s over!!! There are tears! There is screaming in the streets! (They’re my tears. It’s me screaming.)
In the past year, I have gained so much hard-won knowledge about writing, and myself, and how to manage a mid-life career pivot. I will spare you my ravings on that last item (for now), but know that I will eventually and inevitably engage with the energy of this famous It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia GIF.
Stop Stalling. Did You Send Five Queries on February 2nd?
Look, people...
Okay, NO.
But what I have done since last we spoke:
Integrated 30 pages of feedback from 3 Beta readers
Reread my entire manuscript front-to-back while reviewing 50-90 Grammarly suggestions1 for every single chapter
Cut 3,000 total words to get back in the ballpark of genre expectations
Updated and perfected my query letter
Wrote a 900-word synopsis of the entire book
Started meeting weekly, in-person, with fellow writers (that’s networking, people!!)
Had two Threads posts go viral (Net follower increase=25, but at least people think I’m funny?)
Sent 3 full queries
I’m noodling a future post about the mechanics of sending a query, but it’s basically similar to submitting a job application. Requirements are extensive, forms are sort-of-but-never-exactly uniform, and I doubt I could do more than two in a day without sacrificing quality.
Nevertheless, I’m Taking My Win
It would be easy, even tempting, to look at that original 5-query goal and judge it on a binary scale. But as any good project manager will tell you—and yes, I am holding onto my PMP certification; there is nothing on this earth that could make me sit for that 4-hour exam again—the only thing that dooms a project faster than having no plan is writing a plan once and adhering to it blindly.
If I’d held to my original 5-query goal, I’d have sent queries with a synopsis I hadn’t revisited and polished. I’d have queried a manuscript whose page count I didn’t know, because it was still in copy edits. I’d be doubting whether this manuscript is truly “ready” for the query circuit.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still doing that last thing, but…everything that’s in the book now is in the book because someone I trust (yes, sometimes I even include myself) believes it needs to be there. There is nothing to cut wholesale, nor are there any gaping holes. Every scene in the book is doing something, whether that’s adding an important layer to a character arc or advancing the plot in a meaningful way.
At the beginning of this year, I could not have written that previous paragraph. I have the virtual cutting room floor to prove it. But for now, I feel…dare I say it?…good about the manuscript I’m shopping. At the very least, I’m not going to take another hacksaw to it until I get at least one round of rejections back.
What Now?
For the book? I am entering a time of great rejection. That is simply how any process where applicants outnumber opportunities works. It sucks on the job market, and it sucks in the query trenches. But pithy as it sounds, it’s annoyingly true that a guaranteed way to fail is to not even try. I will do my best to take these coming hits and share my experiences authentically.
For this Substack? I’m not entirely sure. It’s tempting to try to “make something” out of Substack itself. I could focus on some area where I have expertise (tech, maybe, or professional development, or running) and build a whole brand around that. But…being a professional Substacker / essayist is not the same as being a successful novelist.
Besides, I’ve always struggled to stay interested in a single topic long enough to make it my whole brand. I would inevitably wind up with three or four targeted but under-nourished Substacks and never have time to write another book. In other words…
I Hope You’ll Stick Around for My Ramblings
The wonderful thing about this newsletter (for me) is you, my small but mighty audience. Most of you are folks I know—or have at least met—in real life. Many of you regularly stop me in real life to ask when my next post is coming.
As stressful as that can be in the moment (Oh, no. Another thing I’m not getting done!??), I am incredibly grateful for it because it reminds me that there are people in the world who care. I am freer to take risks here, because this silly little newsletter helps me feel like I have something interesting to say, regardless of whether it’s part of a “cohesive brand strategy.”
For a novelist, or any creative, I suppose, I can think of no greater gift. The long-term success of anyone creating art hinges on people supporting the artist, not any one piece. So, thank you for being my spark of hope that someday, a lot of people will see a collection of words with my name on it and think, “Huh. No idea what this will say, but should be interesting!”
Next week(ish): Perhaps I’ll share what it’s really like to go viral on Threads. Because boy is there a story arc to THAT.
As a rough breakdown of Grammarly’s performance for any given chapter: 20% were legitimate typos or grammar issues, 35% were suggestions to use fewer or “better” words that I legitimately thought through, and 35% were suggestions that were either ridiculous or blatantly wrong. It also simply missed several legitimate typos. Nice tool, but once again, the robots aren’t there yet.