A Confession - Not necessarily a "Mom" One

Okay - I've been committing a huge blog No-No. The one in which I'm not being honest with myself and using this venue as a place of solace and comfort, a place where those awesome people I visit (or that visit me) can read and offer encouragement, support, or just a "I know what you mean!"

So what's my confession - well, a couple of people know, so it's not a huge secret - but still...

I recently finished writing something - a supernatural/paranormal love story. There is turmoil and upheaval, the heroine learns about herself and discovers love for the first time. It's that kind of tale.

When I finished, a few people in my life asked if they could read it. I was absolutely petrified of the notion that someone would actually read what I created inside my warped brain, but I caved in, printing it out and passing it along. I was surprised (and stupified) to discover they actually liked it. In fact, they told me I should consider trying to get published. I scoffed at the notion, cause let's face it, I ain't no Stephenie Meyer people! And family and friends are supposed to tell you, "I love what you've done honey, it's so good!" Even if you've written the biggest steaming pile o' shit.

But I decided to tweak the story anyway, work on the manuscript obsessively, and finally had it to a place where I thought, "it's not that bad."

Well, I started researching what it takes to get published, uncovering the terrifying truths about agents, publishing companies, queries, and submissions. I googled, went to Barnes and Noble, visited the library. I have printed out hints, suggestions, and names from Agent Query. Then I tried to find a 'fit' for my story (which is honestly been a terrible experience in and of itself) to narrow down the people I would eventually query for potential representation.

It has been a nightmare, but even worse, was attempting to write a decent query. Seriously, I have visited blogs, websites, and have read how-to books and I'm still confused. One place says - DO NOT do A, B, or C. The next says - DEFINITELY do A, B, and C. I fought with myself, taking over two weeks, and sloshed through, producing a terrible rendition of one. Then I had the pleasure of explaining in 5 pages what takes place in 96,000 words of text (that's roughly 400 pages of book people) in a synopsis to accompany said query.

But the worst was yet to come - I just didn't know it yet. I thought after I had the query and synopsis, the names and the emails, I would simply mail out my stuff and hope for the best. What I didn't expect what the terrible pressure inside my stomach that has caused me to hug the toilet for several days now, caused by the mere action of pressing "send" on each individual email. Because let me tell you, each punch of the enter key was like ripping my heart out of my chest and throwing it on the ground in front of a steam roller.

Am I afraid of rejection? Sure I am. But strangely, it's slightly more than that. What started out as a hobby (okay, a monumental stress relief, which has become an addiction - I've finished off another story already, which is completely different) is now making me sick. It's strange because, well, I enjoyed writing the book and the concept of keeping it 'hidden'. Hell, my husband hasn't even read the stuff!

The bad news is - I've gotten rejections already. The good news is - it's completely normal and to be expected. But the good/bad news is = one publisher in particular has requested the full manuscript, and since that day, I've been a walking diarhhea bag of nerves. Jesus. Baring myself in front of the entire O/B department to give birth was less painful. I want to check my email to see if I've gotten a response, but I don't want to check it. I want to continue writing, but I don't want to continue writing. I'm a mixed bag of grapenuts, and I'm equal parts crunchy and soggy. It's completely nerve wracking.

And let me just say - kudos to ALL of you writer's out there who continue to press onward, even in the face of certain rejection and confusion. I know I can't be alone in this necessary step toward acheiving representation.

Wow - I strangely feel better now. Just getting that off my chest...no wait, there's the nausea again. Oh well.