Amanda Hocking

Okay. I understand the nature of this business. That it’s mostly rejection, no matter how good you are.

But I don’t think its fair that because I know that, that I shouldn’t take any of this personally. That I know it only takes one “yes,” that I’m not allowed to feel bad about any of this. Because I know this hurts, it shouldn’t hurt. Because I can’t change it or fix it and I have nothing new to say about it, I shouldn’t say anything at all. Because this sucks and everybody knows it, but that’s the way it is, so I should just take it and smile.

I mean, this isn’t in any way a diatribe about being agents or being rejected or anything like that. I understand where they’re coming from.

But the fact is that it hurts. And most of the time, I think I do a really good job of dealing with it. I get a rejection, and I go, “Alright. Let’s look at another agent” or “Let’s tweak the query letter or the book” or even “Okay. Maybe this idea isn’t quite right. Let’s try writing another book entirely.” I mean, I try to learn from mistakes, turn negatives and positives, and use everything I possibly can to improve my writing.

But some days, it hits me harder, and I just want to cry. And I don’t want anybody to tell me that it’ll be okay, that somebody’ll publish my book someday, because they might not. In fact, odds are against that ever happening. But that’s not the point.

The point is that I don’t want to be told that I’ve said this before. That I go through this about “once every six months.” Do you realize how much rejection I’ve endured in the six months prior to that? The fact that I only take two days a year to sob and freak out is pretty damn remarkable.

The point is that this is hard, and I go through this the best I can. But on the days when it’s not going good, I don’t need any words of wisdom. Or any jewels about how great my writing is and how one day everything will be a magical fairy tale. All I need is for you to listen and remind me of the things that make me happy.

Because, at the end of the day, despite all the rejection and pain, the thing that makes me the happiest is writing. And maybe that’s the point. Even if I can’t get paid to do something I love, at least I can do something that I love. At least I have that.

I’d rather be an agent. I’d rather be selling and reading someone else’s work. Then I’d know.

With my work, I’m too close. I never can tell. Sometimes, I think its really fantastic. Other times, I think its horrible. Most of the time, I think its just what a book should be. Its just what it’s intended to be.

But when I read about the books agents are looking for, and I hear the way they talk about them, and the way I try to talk about mine, it doesn’t sound like any book is that amazing. At least not any one that I’ve read, let alone one I’ve written.

So I don’t know how to tell anymore. Today is a Debbie Downer day. It’s my last day of vacation, and I’ve felt the sting of rejection today. Sending off queries is so exciting, but then the rejections come, and I start feeling vaguely suicidal and like destroying everything I’ve written.

I know I need a thick skin, and sometimes I really do pull it off. And in my heart, I think my books are good. But today, I’m not sure if I’ll ever find an agent that feels that way.

Tomorrow I’ll feel more optimistic. But today, I don’t.

Now that I have the internet, I have once again entered the exhausting and anxious business of trying to get my book published.

I have decided to focus all my attention on Switched because it isn’t as generic or redundant as book about vampires right now. (Not that My Blood Approves is either of those things. But it is about vampires.) And not that many people are writing about sexy trolls and have high school bands referencing John Hughes. I win on those counts

Here is my query letter, if you feel like writing one:

“When Wendy Everly was six-years-old, her mother tried to kill her because she was convinced Wendy was a monster. Eleven years later, Wendy’s still not sure if her mother was right. In my 90,000 word urban fantasy/young adult SWITCHED, Wendy finds herself being “stalked” by Finn Holmes, and she can’t decide if he’s creepy or foxy, or maybe both. Then he tells her that she’s a changeling, and despite her better judgment, she lets him take her back to the world of Trylle – beautiful, powerful, wealthy, and entirely supernatural. Suddenly, Wendy finds herself poised for a throne she doesn’t want and falling for someone she can’t have, and it seems that everything has a very high price.

The story is based on the original interpretation of trolls as cunning and beautiful, but wild and ill-tempered. At its heart, SWITCHED is a modern fairy tale, trying to mesh the worlds of Jim Henson (Labyrinth) and John Hughes (Pretty in Pink). SWITCHED is meant to be the first of a trilogy, with the story culminating in Wendy’s rise to power. I’ve already started writing the sequel and have the outline for the third.”

The end.

I have not had the internet for over a month, so I have not been trying to get published lately. I have, however, finished another book. I would very much so like to try and get published again. I only have a year to get there, and I am broke. I am tired and crabby and today was not nearly as as successful as I had hoped.

I really need to get working on things, and I really need the internet to do that.

Truth of it is: It’s almost 80 degrees in my room at midnight, and the humidity feels like 100%. Yesterday we had tornadoes, and I’ve had a long week. I haven’t written much in the past two weeks, making everything feel longer.

Whenever I think too much about getting published, its harder to write. The publishing aspect is terrifying and overwhelming, and it seems impossible. It’s like the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know anything about writing a book.

And in the end, as much as I love my book, as well written as I think it is, how do I know if its actually good, if other people with read it? How can I know that? I have no experience with this sorta thing. I am very good at calling what’s going to be successful and what’s going to fail in the way of TV shows, movies, and music, so I guess I have an idea of what’s popular. But I can’t clearly see my work.

I’m always afraid that I’m a really, really bad author, and I just don’t’ know it.

I watched The Dark Knight twice today, instead of writing. It felt better somehow.

I think that’s part of what’s frustrating me right now. I want to write about someone like Christian Bale that kicks total ass. But I don’t know how to write that. My superhero story idea tanked (the execution is wrong) and I don’t know how to write a graphic novel. Someday, I’d really like to. That is, if I can ever get my regular novels off the ground.

Kalli really wants me to finish the third book in the My Blood Approves series, and I really should. I always would like to finish the second in the Switched series. Maybe I should just stick with one and force myself to finish it. I’ll prolly feel better then.