Back in 2023, I was working on a book I was really excited about. Book #8. I’d done a ton of research. My agent was excited about the synopsis and liked the first few chapters. It was all lining up to be my next big thing.
And then… it wasn’t.
My agent didn’t love it the way I hoped she would, and after five years of working together, she decided we should “go in a different direction.” (Which I assume is agent-speak for thanks but no thanks.) I was devastated. This was the exact opposite outcome from what I’d expected when I sent her the manuscript. Instead of becoming my next big thing, book #8 became the thing that nearly broke me.
I didn’t write anything new for a year. I was creatively blocked and emotionally bloodied. What little confidence the publishing industry hadn’t already whittled away was now completely gone. It was not a fun time.
Eventually, I started writing again. I finished writing book #9 (my first historical fiction) and published book #3 (All You Have To Do).
But in the back of my mind, I knew book #8 had something. Maybe my former agent couldn’t see that something, but I’d felt it while I was drafting. Even so, I let the book sit in a drawer for nearly three years.
A couple of months ago, I finally felt strong enough to pull it back out and re-acquaint myself with the characters. On re-reading, that familiar excitement was still there but I also knew I’d need help to shape the story into what I believed it could be. So I hired a developmental editor.
It was my first time working with a dev editor, and I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Would I like their suggestions? Would I want to make the changes? Could I even make the changes?
Turns out the answers were yes, yes, and I hope so.After reading through the editorial letter and letting it sit for a bit, I’ve taken myself away for a few days to tackle these revisions (and they are big revisions).
I’m hoping this process brings the magic back. That it makes me believe I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.
I want to feel my confidence return as I figure out the perfect way to thread in a subplot or where to add foreshadowing. I want to turn book #8 into something I can be proud of again—by erasing the stigma of failure I’ve attached to it for so long.
There’s a saying in publishing that it only takes one yes. Unfortunately, it also takes just one no to send you right back to the beginning. The truth is, I let my former agent’s ‘no’ take too much from me. I let it become something bigger than this one book. I turned it into a condemnation of my talent. I let it take my confidence.
Reclaiming book #8 as something I can be proud of again feels like the first step toward getting back to myself.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the revision cave. Don’t knock unless you have chocolate. 🍫
