In my previous MS drafts, my MC was pondering on why she’d never get somewhere because she was afraid to take a small step. She was contented in her own little world, in that round circle she drew for herself, and when beautiful, dangerous things come lurking within contact, she’d reach out, then pull back. Fear is like a seesaw.
This Saturday, I opened an email I tried not to for a long time, knowing – no, thinking – it was a no. I have turned my back on every query I did last year (it stopped in October before I started my revision). I knew my writing sucked. Nobody would like it.
To my surprise, the email was not a no. Yet. It was, “I’m onto it.”
I have always said that fear is my frenemy; it works two ways. One, keep me always on my toes to relentlessly cut, edit and revise my work. Two, it makes me tremble at the sight of query responses. I’m always scared. Maybe it’s because I wanted to know whether I’m good at something and the answer might be opposite that.
This week, I had received a full request. On my January query. And you know, for a long time, I just felt this immense gratification that someone enjoyed my book, that she’d like to read more. And to be honest, I don’t want to think much of it (I actually archived the reply so I won’t regularly see it), but I’m thankful. I might not be there yet, but I’m progressing.
I’ve recently started a new MS and this project took very easy to write: 15k words in four days. I would have finished the run for twenty, but I had my period which, of course, is like temporary death to me. I am looking forward to finishing it this February, revising it throughout summer, and probably throw it in the DVPit this October. I’m thrilled about this; there’s a crazy amount of certainty in this work because I felt it was strong: MG, magic and, well, secret elements I couldn’t tell yet. To be honest, this would give me a bigger chance of breaking into the book world.
But, know what? I loved H&S so much; this may seem like a heresy and I’D PROBABLY DELETE THIS PART LATER ON but I wanted to debut this book, not my authorship. And yes, H&S isn’t some literary masterpiece. It’s like, the silliest, most nonsensical story ever there is, and it took me like 3 years for things to make sense (silly things take time to make sense, I tell you). But in those years, I was carved and molded and smoothed and torn and crumpled and made into new. Every single month. And seeing H&S in its book form is like a graduation to this long, tiring journey.
I love my kids. I’ll never desert them. And I’m looking forward to get a lovely agent who’d understand and champion me to help me learn more about the trade. I’m here to learn, not to be the awesome, one-time-perfect writer.
So, there we go; this week, I close the door to the many things that sparked my hope, in wishing for the many things that will fan a flame. I might not lose the email frights anytime soon, but I’ll try to be brave and accept answers as soon as they come in. Or, well, at least within 3 days. Let me cope. x