Launch Diaries: The Day I Stopped Querying

October 21, 2024 | By | Reply More

I spent three years in the query trenches, determined to land a literary agent. 

For much of that time, I wasn’t part of a writerly community (didn’t believe I qualified), had told no one what I was attempting (seemed easier should I fail), and didn’t know any published/aspiring fiction authors. All I had were loose impressions formed as a reader, research originating from Google searches, and a relentless determination to publish the manuscript that had my heart. Hence, my approach was rooted in two beliefs:

  1. There are “Big 5-Published Books” (vouched for by an agent), there are “Self-Published Books” (vary widely in quality), and there’s no in-between.
  2. Keep working hard, and eventually you’ll reach your goaI.

So there I was, slogging away over the query letter, the synopsis, the godforsaken comp titles. Agonizing for hours upon months turned years over a logline. Studying Manuscript Wish Lists like some literary Santa Claus, scouring agent profiles for some nugget of personal connection, quadruple-checking their submission requirements. 

For all my meticulous preparation, I still got it all wrong. I queried before the manuscript was ready. I burned through half my list using unhelpful comps, a description that revealed little of what the book was actually about, a synopsis that was too detailed.

The rejections were devastating. Real Writer = Agented Writer and Good Book = Big 5 Book, remember? I was alone in the rainy parking lot, unable to land a date for the Big Dance. But it was fine. Everything would be fine. Keep working hard and you’ll hit the goal, right?

I hired an editor, did a massive rewrite, a trillion more passes. Sought professional help with the query package. Next time out, I was hopeful—and sad. I’d drifted so far from the magic that drew me here in the first place. 

Requests for the full manuscript came. They, too, ended in rejection (except three I’m still waiting to hear back on…). I had calls with agents and publishers (not because they were interested, rather, they’d kindly donated query letter critiques in support of a good cause)—very lovely, very human people who shared a theory: my book was written from many points of view, and my first manuscript, making it difficult to imagine from my (overedited-to-death) submission package that it wasn’t a confused mess.Read: nobody believes you pulled this off.

I hired a second editor. When she’d vowed it wasn’t a confused mess but “ready to go,” I ran it past another editor. Just to be sure. 

Regardless, the nos (and no answers) kept flowing. Working harder wasn’t getting me any closer. Still, I kept sending those queries.

More than one hundred and fifty queries.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know another way forward, and I’d come way too far to turn back.

I summoned the nerve to join a brilliant, beautiful tribe of writers at all stages of their careers. They shared their insights. I worked my way through their books—Big 5, self-published, and…everything in between?? 

Whoa. There’s more than one way into the dance.

I discovered some already at the dance were as stuck as I was. Landing an agent en route to a traditional deal was not, 100% of the time, the fairy tale guarantee I’d glorified it to be. 

I confessed to a self-published author the fear driving my querying compulsion: if Big 5 doesn’t want my book, it mustn’t be good, though, right? How do you figure out if it’s good? 

The reply floored me. Have you ever picked up a traditionally published bestseller that you didn’t feel was good? YOU have to believe it’s good, then let readers decide if they agree.

Deep down, I do believe the manuscript is “good.” I’ve never expected every reader to agree, but after years of Rejections-Revise-Repeat, I know by now I’ve pulled off what I set out to do. What if I stopped loitering outside the gym, waiting for someone—anyone—to invite me to the dance? What if I just walked in and…started dancing?

Work harder, and you WILL reach the goal. Just be prepared for the goal to look different once you arrive.

Three grueling years, and it takes one second to understand I’ve sent my last query. I close out QueryTracker, cancel Publisher’s Marketplace, delete MSWL from my bookmarks and wipe my feeds clean of agent updates. 

All along, I’d expected reaching this point would feel like defeat. Instead, all I feel is free.

I sign with a small hybrid press within the month. I’m going to the dance! I’m over the moon—and feel like an idiot for not doing this three years ago. 

Except, that’s not true. The rejections, the constantly returning to the pages until they held up, the getting informed were my way of gaining enough confidence that I stopped needing someone else to believe me in order to believe it myself.

To be clear: I don’t regret querying. If traditional publishing is even vaguely appealing, I say do it. You and your manuscript deserve to know all your options.  

To be super duper clear: This isn’t me saying the dance sucks, or you’re wrong for wanting to go with a date, or even that it wouldn’t have been nice to be asked. All I’m saying is, if you want to go, then you shouldn’t miss it for anything.

I could’ve spent another three (or thirty) years waiting for someone to take a chance on me, but I’m glad I took a chance on myself that day. They’re blasting Uptown Funk in here, and I can’t help busting moves.

Don’t believe me, just watch.

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RACHEL STONE writes stories of hope and redemption, set against vibrant Canadian backdrops. Her debut novel THE BLUE IRIS has won multiple awards, and her acclaimed lyric essays have appeared in international journals, magazines and blogs. Join her on Substack for The Launch Diaries: Reflections, Lessons, Real Talk and Confessions from a Debut Author. Rachel lives near Toronto, Canada with her family. https://linktr.ee/rachelstoneauthor

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