Well, as they say in the biz, "Aw, shit!"
I got my first rejection letter back yesterday from one of the agents I queried. But it's okay. I wasn't so naive to think that the very first letter I would get back would be someone banging on my door begging for me to be their client. Grabbing me by the leg as I drag them across the floor. Tears flying out of their eyes like some exaggerated cartoon until I agreed to allow them to sign me. Finding and agent is almost as hard, if not harder, than finding a publisher. It's part of the reason I had quit dealing with all of this before.
They say that writing the book is the hard part. Uh, no, that was quite a bit easier than trying to get someone to look past whether your query letter is the best in the bunch and give you a chance.
Don't get me wrong-I totally understand that the query letter has to be good enough to get past the thousand of others that are received per year. But come on! You've got to look past the wrapping paper to see the wonderful gift inside.
But it's early. No harm. No foul. I've only just begun to fight!
I know there will come a day when people will hear the name Pol McShane and say, "Mmm, Pol McShane . . . Yeah, he wrote that werewolf book that was a suicide note, right? And he had those children's books about the two brothers and their magic elevator. And didn't he didn't he do that thing with the snakes? Damn, I should have signed him. He'd have made us a lot money. What a dumb ass I am."
This is just the beginning. The bridge ahead of me may be long. It may have a few missing slats. It may be teetering on the edge of collapse, but I'll get across it. And on the other side . . .
The success I'm terrified of!