Lately I’ve thinking a lot about my long-held dream of getting a literary agent and seeing my book traditionally published. The truth is, as I continue to query my third manuscript (fourth if you count that one I partially wrote in high school), I’ve been feeling pretty demotivated. The process is ridden with rejections.
I know I’m a good writer. In the span of about five years, I gained traction as a freelance journalist, earning the praise and respect of a number of high-profile folks, and ultimately transitioned full-time into a much different (but also heavily writing-focused) role with a single company, where I’ve gone from bottom-rung to the head of a department and member of an executive team. In what I do, I’m successful — and supremely grateful. I know, with confidence, how much my skills have grown and how much more potential I have to fulfill. I’m damn proud of myself.
But there’s still a part of myself that craves a different outlet. An ambition that needs to be satisfied. And that’s becoming an author. Not a writer who’s finished and revised several manuscripts, mind you, but a Published Author (insert sparkles here).
And as years spent on one manuscript give way to years on another, I’m beginning to question what I really want: to see my name on a book on a shelf in a store or library, or to have readers — dozens or even hundreds or thousands of them?
I think it’s a little of both. I want to feel like I’ve “earned” my keep by getting an agent, getting a publishing deal, and seeing my books for sale. But I also know that if I did all that (or even part of that) and my book still tanked and no one read it … it wouldn’t mean all that much to me.
I want my book to be read, too.
Getting published is hard. The odds exist (and are real) and yet don’t exist at the same time: Honing your craft increases your chance of success, and each novel is a learning experience … just one that takes one or two years to complete each time. It’s a long-ass journey. Ava Jae, a young adult author I admire, wrote 10 books before she got an agent. Even writers who’ve made it into The New York Times can’t get book deals.
And while I’m not sure I want to self-publish — there are a number of drawbacks to that route, including hurting your chances of getting traditionally published in the future and the plain fact that the only person deciding whether your book is ready is you, a very biased opinion holder — I’m not sure I want to wallow in silence forever, either. I don’t want to shelve manuscript after manuscript, all for a goal I may never reach.
So what does my future hold? Well, more querying and more novel writing, undoubtedly. But I’m also toying with the idea of letting some of my old, failed manuscripts free on a community like Wattpad. Those stories are languishing alone on my computer; they’re not going anywhere. If I release them anonymously, for free, with no sales numbers to haunt me — whether they get two views or two thousand — what’s the harm?
At the end of the day, it’s my choice. I have to decide what’s important to me.