The Professional Face

(Here I go again, blogging about writing. I realize that I blog about this more than anything else. It’s what I do. Even if you’re not a writer, I hope you realize there is wisdom for all professions within the writing industry, and keep reading anyway.)

You know that whole first impression cliché? I’ve been thinking about that, and I kinda want to talk about an important part of our image as professionals.

When first we encounter someone in our industry, chances are it will be online, rather than in person. Not that the in-person part isn’t important—because I cannot stress enough HOW big it is to have that personal contact—but realistically, when we submit work to agents or publishers it’s generally cold. That means first impressions are formed solely on the quality of our query and sample pages.

If you’ve ever read an article on submitting, you should already know how important it is to send only your very, very best work. So I’m going to skip that lecture. Also the query lesson. (But if you need help in those areas, you can look here or here.)

So we work and work and work on our sample pages, and then we work and work and work on our query, and then we think…ahhhh. Now we can submit, right?

Actually, you’re just getting started. I mean, yeah, you can submit, but if you want to make a good impression, it’s also important to do some research first. I know, I know, we write fiction to AVOID research.

So what do we have to research and why?

1. First, research any potential agents/publishing houses to find out if they represent or publish the type of work you have.

2. While you’re there, look to see if they have something on their list similar to yours so you can mention that in your query. Trust me, it looks good for you.

3. Finally, (and people, this is the BIG one, I think) check their submission guidelines. Every company and every agent is a little different. Some want just a query, some want five pages, some ten, some three chapters, etc. Some have questionnaires, some want just a twitter pitch.

There are a bazillion different quirky things these professionals might expect. If you do it right, you have a chance. But if you don’t, it’s possible your submission will be deleted unread.

The good news: the majority of publishers and agents have websites where you can go to find the pertinent information. Really, truly, there is no need to email them individually to ask (although, in extreme circumstances, that might be okay, depending on who it is—most agents prefer not) because the frequently asked questions are generally covered in one section or another.

Your query package is the first part of you these people will get to meet. So IMO, it’s uber important to put on your proverbial conservative makeup, spray down your “stray hairs”, and wear something nice to the party. Make a good impression, and you will NOT be sorry.

Have a great time at the query party. And hey, while you’re there, find me and say hi.

Happy Friday!

When News is Made of Win

Did I ever tell you guys my recent news? Life has been a tad on the crazy side for me, so I can’t remember, but I think I didn’t. (Please forgive me if I repeat myself.)

A couple weeks ago, I got two bits of good news. First, I found out that the beginning of one of my manuscripts won second place in the Romance Writers of America Heart of the West contest. (Translation: a really COOL prize from a way cool organization.) It’s been a long time since I entered a manuscript in a contest, so it felt really good to not only place, but place high.

*does happy dance*

Maybe my writing doesn’t always suck.

Second, I have officially been asked to present at a local conference hosted by the LDStorymakers this coming spring. I haven’t done a lot of presenting up to this point, and since both my published books are through small-ish presses, I am beyond flattered by this development. And completely pleased.

*does happy cartwheels and other feats of bravery*

But I have to point out that neither bit of happy news simply fell into my lap by chance.

To place in the contest, I had to first enter. And to enter, I had to research the contest, judges, guidelines/rules, and also polish and perfect the manuscript segment I hoped to submit. (Once I clicked send, I put the entry out of my mind and literally forgot about it—hence my absolute surprise when I found out I was a finalist.)

To present at the conference, I had to fist come up with an idea, create an outline/lesson plan/proposal, and then research to whom I should sent that proposal in order for them to know that 1) I am willing to teach and 2) I will be prepared with a class that will help others in the writing process. (After I sent the proposal, it was several weeks before I heard back, but I was so happy when I did.)

So, lessons of the day:

1. Research
2. Prepare
3. Submit/ propose/ enter
4. Have faith enough to move on once you’ve clicked send.

What would you add to this list?

I Can Do Hard Things

This week I did something I’ve been putting off for at least a month, probably more. I started submitting again. Not that I ever stopped, but after another round of revisions, it almost feels like a whole new adventure.

Once again, I needed a bunch of people to tell me I could do it. Elana, Heather, Rachelle, Keith, Danyelle—they all rallied around me to tell me that yes, I can do it. And they’re right. I can.

When I really think about it, sending submissions—and consequently getting rejections—isn’t any harder than ninety percent of the other things I do in life. It’s not harder than that thing I did last week, or last summer, or two years ago or four.

I’ve lived through a lot of stuff I’ll never talk about here. But I’m not unique in that. We’re all human. We all have to deal with difficult things. And for the most part, we do. Something comes at us and we take it, deal with it and react in our own distinct way. Hopefully, we’re then able to grow and learn and become better people. Or different people. Whatever.

The point is, as stupid as it sounds, whenever I get ready to send more submissions, I have to psych myself up. I remind myself that this process is really only as hard as I allow it to be. Some submissions are harder than others because I’ve pinned more hope on them. But in the end, even if I only ever get rejections on this book, I am still a writer. I’ll write other books. I’ll keep submitting, and eventually, I’ll find someone who loves my stuff enough to represent it, and then someone else who wants to publish it. I believe in myself enough to know that.

I would be lying if I said rejection isn’t hard to take. It is. Very, very hard. But as my good friends remind me over and over again, I can do hard things.

Then I look around, see my family and friends and know they’ll still be here even after a thousand rejections. And I remember all the harder, more life-altering things I’ve lived through, and I think, meh. Agent / publisher rejections aren’t as bad as I like to pretend.

Then I click send, and laugh when I get my first rejection an hour later—even though it’s eight o’clock on a Saturday night.

I do not curl up and die. My life isn’t forever ruined or destroyed, or even altered in the least. One down, a hundred more to go. No worries. You know why? I can handle it. I can do hard things. And so can you.