Writing in the Trenches
May 12, 2021 § 12 Comments
By Candace Cahill
I am a rule follower. But I am also independent, resilient, and stubborn. I like to do new things and expand my knowledge. So, in the summer of 2019, I set out to write a book. Was I a writer? No. Am I now? Absolutely. Well, I’m learning anyway.
Writing the book itself was an adventure. The initial draft felt like going on a ten-mile hike, falling at the two-mile marker, and continuing despite bloody knees and palms. During the second draft, my wounds wept, then became itchy and crusty. On subsequent revisions I aired the scrapes, let them dry out and scab over, then soaked them lovingly in long, hot baths and applied ointment. Throughout the process, I fought self-doubt and imposter syndrome. And still do, but the scabs have fallen away, leaving tough scars and proof of my journey.
Now, I am on to the next stage of the process: pursuing publication.
If I want to go the traditional route, which I’ve discovered is the Holy Grail for most writers, I must get an agent. As the first in a series of gatekeepers within the realm of publishing, their job is to put my needs and desires as an author first. An agent would promote my work through an intricate courting process to big-time publishers, who only accept agented submissions. But—and this is a big but—the agent must choose me as a client. Therefore, I have sent passionate letters in hopes of luring one of them to love me. Have you ever gone about ‘looking for love?’ Yeah, kind of…counterintuitive. But this is the no-money-up-front option, which is particularly appealing to an out-of-work Alaskan tour guide in the era of covid-19.
Hybrid-publishing presents like an ‘a la carte’ menu for writers. They offer a team of professionals, all under one roof, who help an author develop and publish a well-constructed, marketable book. The single biggest difference is that the author foots the bill. Hybrids are not vanity presses. A hybrid press has a submission/acceptance process, seeks excellence in product outcome, and cares about the author’s success. A vanity press will accept all offered material, if the author has the capital upfront, and throw it ‘as is’ between two covers, without any quality control.
The self-publishing route requires—or allows—the author to do everything themselves. Essentially, the writer hires independent contractors: an editor, proofreader, cover designer, formatter, etc., then submits the work to a publisher facilitator, like Amazon, Barnes, and Noble, or Apple Press. Perfect for the independently-minded micromanager. Hmmm.
So, as you can see, the selection of a publishing track creates a whole new level of fright and exhilaration. It’s like a hike across the Chilkoot Trail: thirty-three miles over a three-thousand-seven-hundred-fifty-three-foot pass carrying a thirty-pound backpack and sleeping in the cold after tying your food up in a tree.
When I completed my manuscript, I immediately sent out a round of query letters to agents, utilizing tools designed to assist me in my search, like QueryTracker. So far, I have not elicited the attention of an agent.
Since January, I have sent thirty query letters, received one full manuscript request, seven rejections (two personalized), and the rest have been crickets. Not a bad showing, although yesterday when another rejection arrived, this one of my full manuscript, I resorted to dipping spoonsful of peanut butter into a bag of chocolate chips and stuffing them in my mouth.
Throughout this courtship process, I have rewritten or edited my query letter dozens of times. I participated in #PITMAD and began sending queries to small, independent presses that do not require agented submissions. I’ve written a respectable synopsis, am knee-deep in crafting a proposal, and attended numerous virtual writing events. Essentially, I am DIY-ing the sh*t out of this process.
But, I have yet to mention marketing, which is a whole other ‘opportunity’ for growth. In keeping with my hiking analogy: comparable to tackling the Appalachian or Pacific Coast Trail.
Nevertheless, I will forge on and head back to the querying trenches, because, as I’ve made abundantly clear, I am a rule follower.
Candace Cahill is a silversmith, musician, storyteller, and writer who lives in Denali, Alaska. You can find her work at ThomasCahillDesigns.com and https://mysonlostagain.blogspot.com/. Her work has been published by Severance and she is currently pursuing publication of her memoir, Goodbye Again.