Grab A Root

My grandmother left the planet not long after I got married, so it’s been well over a decade since I’ve seen her, but I’ve been thinking of her a lot lately.

Grandmother was a remarkable woman. When I was growing up, I would have said formidable. She didn’t suffer fools and had limited tolerance for the shenanigans my siblings and I were always up to. She was into manners, a total yes-ma’am kind of woman. And she went by Grandmother – not grandma or gran or granny, no cutesy names like nana or gigi for her. No, Virginia Dinan was Grandmother through and through.

She lived by a creek and liked cardinals, so much so, that I think of her whenever I see one. She had an old piano in her house that had been damaged when the creek flooded, but she let me play it whenever I came to visit anyway (it made Beethoven sound extra-atmospheric and brooding and I loved it), and she taught me to play variations of solitaire I’d had no idea existed. Grandmother was a tall woman who preferred wearing pants outfits and was always well-coiffed. In fact, I can’t think of a time when she wasn’t fully put together and poised. And she had some key phrases she’d say with her particular refined Texas-twang (it does exist, I swear) that I still hear in her voice in my mind today.

She’d planned to teach me her divinity recipe, but every time we’d scheduled to make it together, it was too humid or too rainy or some other thing and I’ve just decided that divinity is magic candy that can only be made in unicorn conditions with a wooden spoon. Still, we always had fun visiting even if we weren’t able to create the confection together. She’d ask me how things were going, how they were really going. And she’d tell me not to give up, but to grab a root and growl (one of her key phrases that meant to dig in and get after it).

Though she often came across as stern and relatively stoic, Grandmother was a complete badass and a powerhouse of grit, and gumption. A woman who began running her own show in business and in life during a time in history when women weren’t supposed to do things like that. Grandmother often made her own seat at the table and was always looking for opportunities to help others get ahead in life. Though she wasn’t esoteric about it, Grandmother was a staunch believer in dreams and one of the great influences in my life for perseverance and finding or making a way.

From the moment she learned about them, she’d send me newspaper or magazine clippings about people doing the things I was interested in along with little notes about how we never know when things will align, but to keep going in the direction of the dream no matter what. I got a lot of notes about writers over the years, even when I’d stopped writing – or at least sharing my writing with others – and temporarily set that dream aside.

When I stepped into my music career, Grandmother was one of my greatest supporters, even coming to shows where I was an opening act just to support me and my band. She gave me a loan (that she later refused to accept repayment for) to help finance my first album so I could spend more energy on creating it than worrying about the logistics of how it would all come together. And all along, she continued with the articles about authors.

From what I could tell, it seemed like it took a long time for authors to get their breaks – at least in traditional publishing (self-publishing wasn’t what it is today at that time). And Grandmother loved to share the stories of the people who hadn’t given up, and who had eventually acquired the representation or landed the book deals they’d been going for. I learned all about people who saved their rejection notices (which I like to call declines) and how many agents turned down such-and-such now famous novel, and so-and-so now famous author before someone finally said yes.

It only takes one yes.

I learned that with theatre in high school and college, and I saw it with music too. So, of course, I know that’s the way of it with writing as well. Last summer, I began the process of seeking representation for my Norse paranormal romance novel, Thread of Fate. I’ve learned a lot through that process, namely that literary publishing is in some ways even more subjective than the music industry. And, just like with the music industry, alignment is everything.

While most agents sent a variation of “it doesn’t fit my list right now” or “I just didn’t like it as much as I wanted to” in response to my queries, on my 8th decline for that novel, I finally received some actionable feedback. According to that agent, the book was too long for a debut novelist in that genre. I’d had no idea it mattered so much since I regularly read books in that genre that are 250k words or more (and mine is only 126k words). While I know I can publish the novel on my own, part of my author dreams involves aspects not typically found in indie-publishing, so I’m seeking a more traditional publishing path right now.

After that feedback, I stopped with the queries for Thread of Fate and had a new round of beta readers check out the novel - btw, they absolutely loved it, which while wonderful to hear, wasn’t helpful in the how-to-make-this-better department. So, I let the manuscript rest. In November, I met with some industry pros at a writers conference for a manuscript critique (which was based entirely on the first 5 pages of the novel, the pitch, query letter, and the synopsis). While they were glowing about several things, one of them said they felt the word count was too long, which corroborated what that agent had shared. When I returned from the conference, I set Thread of Fate aside completely and wrote a new novel, in an entirely different world, with a mind to keeping it under 100K words.

I began querying that novel in late February and while I’ve received a few declines, I also received a request for the full manuscript. That’s a BFD in the querying process – agents literally get hundreds of queries a day and for them to ask to read an entire novel is awesome because their time and focus are so limited. For them to even ask to see it means a lot.

Ultimately, that agent declined, but it was the most lovely decline I’ve ever received. It was clear they’d enjoyed the story, and also clear there was something specific about it that made it not the best fit for them to champion (which they shared eloquently). Their letter was so glowing, I was almost expecting a revise and resubmit request to address the thing they mentioned. Instead, I was told they didn’t think I needed to make any major changes, that they’d loved the story, felt it was the right word count for the genre and agreed (with my query letter) that readers of my comp authors would love it too. They encouraged me to send them other projects more aligned with their preference and like many other agents, reminded me that just because that particular book wasn’t the right fit for them, it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be the right fit for someone else.

The amazing thing about the submission process is that every no can lead to a yes if we let it. In the case of Thread of Fate, the actionable feedback was to cut the word count to help agents want to ask for more since it’s less of a commitment to read a shorter book (it also costs less to create) and they might be more willing to give it a chance that way. In the case of The Unseen, it was to keep going to find an agent who likes the mix of world-building, action and romance in the book, rather than preferring more of one component over another. I still have some queries out for The Unseen, and it’s currently with beta readers (who are loving it so far). And meanwhile, I’m a little over a third of the way through a draft of the next book in that world.

“Grab a root and growl.”

While my books are possibly too spicy for her (I don’t know, we never talked about that), I think Grandmother would have loved reading my rejection notes. She’d probably have printed them out and put them in a special, decorative binder and called it something like, “The Path.” I have them all in a folder in my emails and I celebrate every single decline (we actually have a high-five ritual in my house around rejections - regardless of what they’re for). I celebrate the declines that come with actionable feedback even more, taking them to heart and allowing them to help inform my decisions for moving forward.

Thanks to those agents who took the time to say why it was a no (beyond “it just isn’t right for me”), I’ve been able to better refine my search parameters in seeking a solid alignment for the work and the agent(s) who can champion it with aplomb. I’m also better able to refine the work if it’s not where it needs to be to fit industry standards if I choose to. While I’m all for breaking a mold and doing things our own way, I also get that publishing is a business and there are protocols and expectations in place for a reason. If I want to play in that pond, there are just things I get to play with if I choose to, including word count. So, in some ways, every no helps bring me closer to a yes.

I have absolute faith that I will align with the right agents, editors, and publishers for the work eventually. We have to believe BIG like that for ourselves because if we don’t believe in ourselves and our work, no one else will either. In the meantime, I’m just over here learning along the way. Experimenting, exploring, growing, and going for it with gusto, as is my way. I know without a doubt that these books will find their way out into the world and that they will be a nexus of joy and clean water. Just as I knew without a doubt that my music would find its way into the world and be a source of delight, solace, and inspiration for some.

And just like with music, I don’t know all the logistics of how everything will come to pass with writing (or anything in life, really), but I don’t have to worry about that right now. My job now, as my Grandmother would say, is to grab a root and growl. To keep showing up and doing the work. Whether that’s writing, editing, revising, querying, networking, refining my craft, etc., it’s all movement in the direction of my author dreams. And I will keep going until all of them are reality.

Here’s to believing big while doing the work in relentless pursuit of our dreams. To knowing our desires are fully resourced and it’s not up to us to know the how of things, only the what and the why. To not being daunted by the no-thank-yous and keep moving forward towards the yeses. To staying in the game and celebrating all the wins along the way as we grab a root and growl.