Stings and Things
Today I submitted a manuscript to my agent that I was really excited about. I had already sent it through my critique group with positive feedback. One of my fellow authors even said, “I love this. I predict a quick sale.” And then WAMMO! My agent rejects it. She says, “I don’t get the concept here.”
Now, I should mention that I love my agent. She’s direct, no-nonsense, honest, and driven. (Did I mention I've worked with her for five years and have no idea what she looks like? One of the strange parts of this business.) She’s very savvy with negotiations. I won’t part with her. Yet it stings like crazy when she turns down a piece. That’s normal I guess. It’s just that you give birth to this idea, dress it up, and take it out into the word and then somebody says, “Your baby's not so cute. There's something wrong with it.” It feels a little bit like that. So either you perform surgery to correct the flaws, or you start over again with another "pregnancy." Alright, I suppose that analogy is a bit brutal. I’ll be fine in a day or so. Sniff.
Some basic stuff--I’m planning several author signings in April and May, and I’m going to the ALA convention in June. Oh--a few days ago I got some “COOL DADDY RAT” mugs in the mail. They’re really fun. A big framed canvas print of Mike Lester’s Times Square spread is also on its way. I feel so lucky to have the opportunity to see some of my books in print in the next few months. Life still has so many challenges—really difficult ones--and that seems to be the norm for me, but I’ve got seven wonderful kids, a husband who loves me, and the chance to do something I enjoy. I can handle the tough stuff.
And hey, my fifteen-year-old got braces today. Purple bands on the top and green on the bottom. He’s smiling, saying, “I’m a real teenager.” Life is good.
Now, I should mention that I love my agent. She’s direct, no-nonsense, honest, and driven. (Did I mention I've worked with her for five years and have no idea what she looks like? One of the strange parts of this business.) She’s very savvy with negotiations. I won’t part with her. Yet it stings like crazy when she turns down a piece. That’s normal I guess. It’s just that you give birth to this idea, dress it up, and take it out into the word and then somebody says, “Your baby's not so cute. There's something wrong with it.” It feels a little bit like that. So either you perform surgery to correct the flaws, or you start over again with another "pregnancy." Alright, I suppose that analogy is a bit brutal. I’ll be fine in a day or so. Sniff.
Some basic stuff--I’m planning several author signings in April and May, and I’m going to the ALA convention in June. Oh--a few days ago I got some “COOL DADDY RAT” mugs in the mail. They’re really fun. A big framed canvas print of Mike Lester’s Times Square spread is also on its way. I feel so lucky to have the opportunity to see some of my books in print in the next few months. Life still has so many challenges—really difficult ones--and that seems to be the norm for me, but I’ve got seven wonderful kids, a husband who loves me, and the chance to do something I enjoy. I can handle the tough stuff.
And hey, my fifteen-year-old got braces today. Purple bands on the top and green on the bottom. He’s smiling, saying, “I’m a real teenager.” Life is good.
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