Bad Day in Writer’s Gulch…

(NOTE: When you read the part where my agent says my funny book is depressing, please keep in mind that the subject line is meant to be funny, like as in an ironic sense, and not depressing…)

There are days when writing is about conquering new vistas and scaling the highest mountains and taking names and other such crap… Then, there are days when writing is mostly about licking your wounds and regrouping your determination and not giving into the pointlessness of it all.

Welcome to that day.

It is for me, at least. Yesterday, I got hit in the face with three major rejections, of which I was ABSOLUTELY SURE that at least one would be accepted. I was ready for two of the three being rejected (not on the same day, of course) but three? Three? Come on!

The first two came from my agent. They were for my horror novel, Wormfood Island, and my latest novel, indian paintbrush. I was reasonably sure Wormfood Island wouldn’t float because it didn’t really look like her thing. (Truth be told, I really wish Northern Frights all the best because I still want to publish with them… it’s almost impossible to find horror publishers out here!) On the other hand, indian paintbrush felt like a perfect fit in my mind: ironically funny modern literary fiction, a comment on our society… hell, what’s not to like?

When I asked her why, she said it just seemed so depressing… and I looked at my monitor and thought, “No… ironically funny modern literary fiction… a comment on our society…” In the end, indian paintbrush is the kind of book I’ve wanted to write since I first decided I wanted to be a writer. Hearing that it was “depressing” when the aim was ironically funny… that was tough.

And my day wasn’t over, yet.

Another agent had been reading Once Removed. When I emailed her samples, she replied with praise about how much she loved it. Then, she asked me to mail her a hardcopy and it felt so right. Here’s an intimate take on the DaVinci-Code-ian books, a story that displays how secrets can be so complex between two people that you don’t need to go quite so over the top.

Then, I heard back from her and, as it turned out, it was too intimate. The agent wanted something bigger and not so intimate and, again, my point was missed completely.

And I felt as if, maybe, my writing just wasn’t good enough to convey the intent I had in both cases… I still feel that way.

I’m not going to lie to you – all you writers and wanna-be-writers out there – trying to make a living as a writer sucks much of the time, especially when you’re trying to establish yourself. There are so many times I’d love to quit, but then I think about the 26 years I’ve been at it… and I know I can’t.

So, I pick myself up the next morning, dust myself off, and find myself trying yet another day…