Conventional wisdom says that what a person does when no one is watching reveals her true self and that we find out who our friends are when things get tough—when we need something or ask for help. Those two conventions have never been more accurate for me than during the past few years, as I’ve been writing and attempting to publish my first book.
It’s no secret that with writing comes rejections. Rejections never feel good, though they become easier to accept over time. In fact, I prefer them to being ignored, left dangling in the wind without responses to submissions or follow-through on promises, which is often the (lack of) outcome when I’m constructing book proposals and submitting work to publishers. Submitting reminds me that although writing is considered a solitary endeavor, we writers—especially while unpublished—are dependent on relationships: for giving and receiving feedback, seeking and sharing opportunities, soliciting and providing blurbs, and, perhaps most importantly, reminding and being reminded that they’re not invisible, no matter how insignificant they feel. A writer’s best friends are those who follow through when no one is watching, who offer support when times are tough.
Some of my toughest times came well after the writing was done, when I discovered that nothing—not skill or content, accomplishments or past publications—matters as much to publishers as a writer’s fame. I’m not famous, so convincing a publisher to take on my memoir prompts flashbacks of the catch-22 I encountered while applying for professional jobs as a new college graduate: Employers wanted me to have experience before they would hire me, but I couldn’t get experience until someone hired me. Similarly, publishers want my book to have an audience before they’ll publish it, but I can’t prove my book has an audience until someone publishes it.
I’ve been fortunate during these tough times to have friends and fellow writers who, with a few exceptions, are true to their word and generous with their support. I’ve also been lucky to discover another source of support, one that should have been obvious but that I didn’t expect: books. Two have been particularly helpful.
A friend recommended the first: Congratulations! Who Are You Again? by Harrison Scott Key. I can’t call Key a friend because I’ve never met him, but Congratulations! has provided encouragement during my toughest writing and submitting times. It’s the most helpful primer (cautionary tale?) on publishing I’ve ever read. The title alone sums up what approaching publishers is like but does so in a way that makes me want to laugh instead of cry.
Beyond its title, Congratulations! reveals in vivid detail the dips, peaks, and stomach-turning twists that accompanied Key’s first memoir, The World’s Largest Man. His candid description of failures and successes, along with his deft balancing of humor and poignancy with vulnerability and resiliency, inspires even as it flings readers along publishing’s perilous tracks. Key could have been narrating my experience when he wrote that his book began as a dream that took hold in his early life and wouldn’t let go. His compulsion to pursue the dream despite perceptions—sometimes even his own—that doing so was wasted effort, reassured: I’m not alone or delusional in seeking to make my dream a reality. His self-doubt at every stage, even as he earned a six-figure advance and watched his published book climb the charts, allowed me to acknowledge my own doubts without succumbing to them. And his ultimate success (giving a TED Talk!) proves that although every writer feels invisible sometimes, it doesn’t mean she is.
We writers can and should support each other by recommending resources, linking to websites and social media profiles, endorsing each other’s work, and lending a patient ear. I’m determined to do so going forward as I plug away at getting my memoir published with support from another book that I’ll reveal in Part II of this post.
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