16080676Oh man, I’ve been so bad about updating this blog, I’m sorrryyyyyy

I was reading 2K to 10K: Writing Faster, Writing Better, and Writing More of What You Love last week. (I also wrote a review of it on Goodreads!) It was a pretty standard book until I read the section on editing.

And then something just… clicked.

You see, when Rachel Aaron edits her books she does very few readthroughs–that is, she doesn’t start editing by reading on page #1 and going through to the end. She does one hardcore read-and-edit of the entire book, and she only does it late in the edit, after she’s finished all her big changes.

I’ll get to what she does and why in a moment. But this blew my mind for some reason. She avoids reading the whole story front-to-back because reading the entire story again and again and again made her hate her stories.

And that sounded familiar.

Could Editing Too Much Be a Problem?

I edit by reading the whole story from the beginning to the end. I do it many, many, many times.

The thing is, I like editing. I love editing! It’s my favorite part of writing a novel! So whenever people start talking about how editing is bad or stressful or deeply uncomfortable, I get a little defensive. Editing is awesome. You can’t change my mind on that.

That also means I did at least 6 passes on the book I last queried. That’s what it needed, so that’s what I did. I just kept reading and fixing and reading and fixing until it was ready to go.

Did I do a fine job editing? I’d like to think so. Did I hate that thing at the end? I wanted to toss it into a fire. 

But the thing is, I’m not exactly a confident person. I always find reasons to dislike my writing. So “hey, I’ve read this story so much I hate everything about it” is not a strange and unfamiliar state for me. Hating a story I read too many times felt natural and unavoidable.

It never–and I do mean never–occurred to me that reading my drafts too many times might make me hate them more.

The Alternative: More Targeted Edits, Fewer Readthroughs

You can buy 2K to 10K if you want to read the whole process in detail. (The book is 99 cents and 70 pages long. It’s not a huge investment.) But here’s what she does:

  1. She goes through the story real quick and creates a “scene map.” You go through the novel, tally each chapter, and write a bullet for each thing that happens in each scene and chapter. It’s kind of like making a reverse outline–except now, instead of planning each scene, you’re writing down what you actually wrote.
  2. You make a to-do list of all the big edits that you need to do.
  3. You use the scene map to find which chapters include the issues you need to fix.
  4. Go directly to those chapters–and just them–and fix them.
  5. Gradually check everything off your list.
  6. Once everything is done on your list you THEN do a readthrough of the entire story on the sentence-and-paragraph level. At this point you’ll have a lot of cleanup to do–you’ll have references to things you just edited out, or buildup to stuff that doesn’t happen anymore–but that’s just editing. The big stuff is done. Now you just make the rest of it work.

The important thing is that you AREN’T just making a to-do list and trying to fix the entire story in a single readthrough.

That’s pretty stressful, for one thing. And difficult. If you have a dozen tasks to tweak and several chapters to rewrite, just reading the whole darn story one–or two or three–times to get everything right can be exhausting.

So you don’t. You do targeted fixes. You get the big stuff out of the way. You only worry about polishing paragraphs and making things pretty once you’re sure that you don’t have any huge, glaring mistakes to fix anymore. And–just to make all this more appealing–apparently this is faster, too.

So I’m going to try it out!

I’ve got a really messy MG fantasy. It’s rough. Really rough. It’s so rough I was desperately putting off editing it at all because, despite how much I generally like editing, it felt like a huge amount of work to fix.

So, hey! Let’s see if this works! Let’s see if it’s faster, easier, or just all-around less stressful to fix targeted chapters first and edit everything second. Of course, worded like that, it sounds like it should be easier, huh? But goodness knows that these things don’t always work out like you want them to. Maybe my brain just won’t work in a non-linear fashion. Maybe this’ll be inefficient. Maybe. Who knows.

In any case, I’m going to try it out, give it a fair shot, and report back once I’m done. We’ll see how it goes!

Holy moley, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted here. Hi! I hope everyone reading this had some wonderful holidays!

It’s December 31st! The end of the year! And I wanted to take this moment to look back at what I accomplished this year. So let’s get to it!

I read a lot of awesome books!

I read 31 books this year. And while most of it was the usual fare–YA fantasy and a smattering of non-fiction–I also read a toooooooooon of MG!

But that doesn’t matter, because almost all of the books I 5-starred on Goodreads were non-fiction or adult fantasy. And so, for the second year in a row, almost all of my favorite books were not in the genre I’m trying to write. Delightful!

The books I enjoyed the most were:

  • The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison, a book on elfin/goblin politics that has maybe 5 pages of action and is still completely riveting.
  • Shadow Scale by Rachel Hartman, although I’m still conflicted about it. Every single line spoken by a dragon is pure shining gold, but the ending frustrates me to this very day.
  • How to be a Victorian by Ruth Goodman, which is just a lovely non-fiction book, and…
  • A New History of Shinto by John Breen and Mark Teeuwen, which is also super aweome!

I wrote a fair amount!

My original plan was to just dump numbers here. I have them! I seriously do! I can tell you with extreme accuracy how many words I wrote, and how many of those words went to novels, short stories, outlines, and query letters.

But… let’s not. I wrote the first draft of a 60K MG fantasy novel and four short stories. I sold two shorts. I placed in one contest.

And most of that was written after July. I had a pretty weird year, honestly. I spent the first 6 months just fumbling around–struggling to write a novel, puttering through short stories, and being furious at myself all the while. Sure, I pulled out of it. The last half of the year was extremely productive. But none of it was really good for me.

We’ll get to that in a second.

I finished querying a novel!

Okay, so. I kept saying that I was going to post my querying stats. I haven’t. I was imagining a nice, long post about querying where I explained what went well, what didn’t, what freaked me out, and how I worked through it.

I never wrote that post! And now it seems unlikely that I will.

So let’s get that out of the way. I queried a YA fantasy to 92 agents. I got 5 full requests and 1 partial. No one made any offers, unfortunately. I’m done querying that novel–and I have other plans for it, which I hope I can talk about soon! But for now, I can just say that it was a good experience, I learned a lot, but it’s obviously not where I wanted to be.

It’s one of the things I’m most unsure about this year. I feel like I’ve got a bad case of the almosts. I almost had what it took to get an agent to take me on. Almost. Not quite. But almost.

Almost’s not a great place. It kind of drives me nuts. But I also feel like a huge hypocrite in saying so. I know that the me from 5 years ago would punch me in the gut for complaining about getting full manuscript requests, even if they didn’t go anywhere.

So there’s my New Year’s resolution: To write more and agonize less.

So, like I said before, this year was weird. It started out bad. It ended up good. But none of that, I think, is how I’d like to write in the future. And that’s because I spent an awful lot of this year being angry with my writing. Here’s how my train of thought would go:

Writers write.

If you want to make a career as a fiction writer–after accepting that this is extremely unlikely to happen in the first place–you need to write a lot of stories. You have to produce constantly.

The more novels and short stories you complete, the more chances you have at publishing them.

If you are not producing complete novels regularly, you will not be working toward this dream.

OK. So that’s the stupid little reel playing in the back of my skull. It’s reasonable, right? It’s realistic! It’s entirely true. If someone wanted to make a career as a writer, they would have to write a lot of books, regularly and often. Heck, they’d probably want to do a lot more than I manage, which is roughly a novel a year.

But I beat myself over the head with with logic constantly. I wrote a short story a month earlier this year, and it wasn’t enough. 4 stories in 4 months? You can write a short story in a couple of days! It wasn’t enough.

I was writing a novel. When it puttered out in February, I was crushed. I had wasted 6 months on that thing, and I didn’t end up with a completed first draft. I needed to start another. Immediately. I needed to plan and outline and write, because it was February and if I didn’t hurry I wouldn’t finish anything by the end of the year, and then I would be a total failure.

But it turns out that screaming WRITE MORE! PRODUCE MORE! FASTER! at yourself every damn day doesn’t actually make you write better.

I did eventually sit down and write a novel. In fact, almost 60% of the words I wrote this year happened between July and November. But it was a heroic effort. It was repentance! I had struggled so much the first half of the year that I felt like I had to write 10,000 words a week to make up for it. (Though, to be fair, I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t like I was hatewriting the poor thing. I did really enjoy it.)

But the point is that none of this is good for the long haul.

I need to stop… Haranguing myself so much, I guess. And it’s hard, because I’m seeing some success. Some of my novels are getting interest, some of my stories have been sold. Those are all good things. But I have some fervent need to up the ante and do MORE BETTER FASTER.

So yes. That’s my goal. That’s my resolution: I really just don’t need to turn writing into a boom or bust cycle where I’m either frustrated about not writing enough or writing more than I can reasonably maintain.

Because, regardless of all the stress, I got a lot done. I sold more stuff. I wrote more stuff. I learned a ton. And I can continue to do more, and see more success, without making myself feel panicked about not doing enough.

So! That’s the plan. We’ll see how it goes. Here’s to 2016 being an even better year!

First off, I want to make a confession: I signed up for this thing totally on impulse. I really, really wanted to go to a conference this year, but I had missed all the big ones, all the local ones, and all the appropriate ones. So I decided, “Hey, who cares? I just need to to go to something, right? I’m only going so I can meet people, anyway.”

What I’m trying to say is: This was a good conference, but it was totally not for me.

One look at the official website should show you why–and it should have keyed me in, too! So shame on me! Because it’s really pretty obvious: this is a workshop for beginners.

So let’s talk about it!

The Panels

The entire event was presented by Chuck Sambuchino, who’s best known as the editor for the Writer’s Digest Guide to Literary Agents and the author of several comedy and non-fiction books on how to write.

And he’s good. He knows his stuff, he’s inspirational, and he’s funny. He also speaks at roughly five thousand words per minute, so I’m going to guess he really likes his coffee, too.

There were five panels:

  • Your Publishing Options Today: An introduction to traditional publishing and self-publishing with an overview of the pros and cons for each.
  • Everything You Need to Know About Agents, Queries, and Pitching: This covered queries, synopses, and finding agents.
  • Chapter One Critique-Fest: The agents read the first page of several manuscripts and raised their hands at the point when they’d stop reading. Then they all explained what did and didn’t work for them.
  • How to Market Yourself And Your Books: A one-hour summary of Chuck’s book, Create Your Writer Platform, which went through why you need a social media platform and how it can (and can’t) help you.
  • How to Get Published: 10 Professional Writing Practices That You Need to Know NOW to Find Success as a Writer: Just a nice, rah-rah, inspirational speech with ten common-sense tips on writing.

Did I get a lot of out them? Er, not really. But I’m not the target audience here. I’ve queried three novels. I know what agents are, I know how to write queries, and I know what to do when you get a full request. I might not have an agent yet, but I at least know how to get there.

But would this kind of workshop be useful for a beginner? Definitely! It provided a high-level overview of where to publish, how to query, how to find an agent, what agents think when they read your stuff, and how to promote yourself along the way. For someone who has just started writing and has a gist of what publishing is about, this would be great.

Mostly, Chuck is just a really good speaker. None of this was new to me, sure. But I was very rarely bored. Chuck is fun enough to listen to that the panels were entertaining even when their content was pretty basic.

So What Did I Get Out of It?

I was in a stupid-lousy situation, really. I had already queried Justice Unending, my 65,000-word YA fantasy, to all the YA agents attending. (It’s also pretty much done–I’ve finished its query runs and moved on to small/medium presses.) I have the first draft of a MG fantasy done, but I finished that a couple of weeks ago. I’m really not ready to pitch that thing.

And I’ve already mentioned that I didn’t get a lot out of the panels. So what did I enjoy?

Networking!

Seriously. I don’t get out a lot. I definitely don’t meet a lot of other writers. I’m reasonably new to the Boston area, I’m shy as heck, and I haven’t really reached out to others. So hey, committing myself to a conference kind of forced me to get out and meet people, right?

And that was worth the price of admission. Sure, sure, yeah–I could probably have achieved the same thing by being less shy and going to SCBWI events. Or joining a writing group. Or something. But this was the kick in the butt I needed to go out and talk to writers. And it was fun.

So, overall…?

I don’t know if Writers Digest throws these mini-workshops often, but if you’re new to publishing, new to writing, and want a great, big infodump on how it works, then these workshops aren’t a bad deal. It was a one-day event, it wasn’t ridiculously expensive, and Chuck was a great speaker. As far as conferences go, that’s about as low a barrier to entry as you can get.

I LOVE DATA.

I also love writing. Consequentially, I really wanted to find a way to better track my writing progress. I wanted more than the “X words out of XX,XXX” tickers that you see on message boards or the chapter-level or novel-level targets that Scrivener gave you. I wanted to map my work daily, showing exactly how much work I was doing and what kind of work it was. I wanted data that I could slice, dice, and display in different formats.

I might be a little nuts.

So I kept a record of everything I wrote all year. When I first started tracking my work, I recorded everything I did in a very simple Excel file. But last week, something happened. Something magical. Something wonderful.

I discovered pivot tables. And now I’m going to show you what I used them for.

(It gets more exciting in a moment, I promise.)

Step #1: Record Every Time You Do Anything Related to Writing

This is the only step that took any work. I logged an entry in Excel every time I did anything related to writing–so, basically, any time I wrote, edited, or outlined something.

I tracked everything. I didn’t just track words I wrote for stories. I tracked words I wrote for query letters, synopses, and outlines. Basically, if I was being productive and it was related to a story, I recorded it.

Here’s what my tracker looks like:

Screenshot showing what stories I worked on by day.
(January was a horrible month for me, but whatever. You can see what I’m tracking.)

It’s pretty simple. I track:

  • The Date: When I worked on anything writing-related.
  • The title of what I worked on.
  • The type of product. This can be a novel, short story, outline, query, or synopsis.
  • The total word count. This is automatically generated from the next two fields–“New Word Count” and “Original Word Count.” If I started a chapter or story from scratch and wrote 2,000 words, that “2,000” would go in the “New Word Count” and 0 would go in the “Original Word Count.” If I later picked up that piece and added 1,000 words, I’d have “3,000” (the new final word count) in “New Word Count” and 2,000 in the “Original”… Which would allow me to track how many words I added or removed that day.
  • The type of work. I use four categories here: writing, editing, outlining, and administrative (which I use for queries and synopses.)
  • The total words worked. This is a quirky and possibly not useful field. I hate it when I do a really good job editing, remove 10,000 words from a novel… And this file shows my monthly word count as -10,000 words. That’s what shows up in the “total” field. And, as you can tell from February 5, sometimes that looks nasty. So I made this silly field, the “total words worked” field. It’s a duplicate of the “total” field, except everything is a positive number.

Phew!

Step #2: Use that PivotTable Magic!

Everything else is done automatically. Using the data you’re tracking in step #1, you can ask Excel to create a whole slew of beautiful tables. Like this one!

Screenshot showing everything I worked on by month in 2015.

(Yes, these are my real numbers. Yes, I had an incredibly bad start to the year, including an abysmal April. It got better, though!)

This beautiful table shows exactly how many words I wrote each month, broken up by what I worked on. The only real quirk is that I didn’t track how many words I wrote during my outlining period between April and June, so my actual total is a lot higher than the zeroes you see there.

All I had to do was:

  1. Create a new tab in Excel.
  2. Go to Insert > PivotTable
  3. Put “Date” in the Row Labels.
  4. Put “Work Type” and “Story Type” (in that order) in the “Column Labels.”
  5. Put “Total” in the “Values” section.
  6. Click the little arrow next to “Total,” select “Value Field Settings,” and set “Summarize value field by” to “Sum.”
  7. By default, it displayed all this data broken up by individual days. To get the month-by-month view, right click any day, select “Group,” then make sure it’s grouped by “Months.”

That’s it! Now it shows all the words I wrote this year, organized by the type of work I did and the type of product I created.

I have a different tab that shows this same data broken down by week. It’s glorious!

Step #3: Experiment with Different Data Sets!

There are all kinds of ways to display data! How about month-by-month breakdown of what projects you worked on? That’s another fun one!

Screenshot showing what products I worked on every month vs. the number of words I produced.

Isn’t that awesome?!

So data is awesome. Awesome. I could graph this stuff. I could look at it a zillion different ways. I’m addicted to numbers.

But I also find these numbers soothing. It shows me that I’m getting work done. It helps me see, in a very easy-to-read format, just how productive I’ve been this year.

Also, it looks really cool. What more could you want?

When I published my first short story, I had absolutely no idea what to expect. What happens after you get your acceptance email? How long will it take? What if the editor is really slow to respond–should I go into hysterics and assume they decided not to publish me? Or, um. Maybe not?

I’ve published four short stories and placed in two contests, so I’m definitely not an expert. But I’ve got a pretty good idea how this process generally goes, and that’s what I’m going to share.

So here goes!

1. Step 1: The Acceptance Email

One of these days, you will get the most wonderful of gifts: An acceptance email.

By this point you’ll have seen a ton of rejections. You’ll be used to the pleasantries, the “Thanks for submitting”s, and the “This isn’t right for our publication”s. But one of these days, it’ll be different: They’ll thank you for sending the piece. They’ll tell you that they really like it. They’ll say they want to publish it.

OK, so, uh… Now what?

(OK, so the right answer is “celebrate.” But what about afterwards?)

2. Step 2: Getting the Contract

Nothing is final until you sign the contract.

Short story contracts are very simple. They tell you what rights the publisher is taking, how long they’ll hold onto those rights, and what they’ll do with them. Every contract is different, so you will definitely want to read yours.

I don’t pretend to understand contract law, but you should be able to understand most of what you read. Google (and your friendly neighborhood writing communities) can help with the rest. Some questions I look for are:

  • Do you have to wait before re-submitting the story anywhere else? Weirdly enough, you can submit your short story–even one that’s been published–to multiple places. You just have to look for places that accept reprints. Your contract will probably explain how long you have to wait before doing that.
  • What rights are they claiming? All of mine ask for the one-time, nonexclusive, world, electronic, English-language rights for some period of time. This is the important stuff. Google anything you don’t understand.
  • When and how will they pay you? If this is a paying market, the contract will explain when and how you’ll be paid. Most of them will pay you after the story is published.
  • Does it mention any way the contract can be voided? Sometimes you’ll see clauses explaining that the contract can be voided if something goes horribly wrong. For example, I’ve seen some saying that they have to publish the story within a year or I have the right to ask for the contract to be nullified. Another said they could void the contract if we couldn’t agree on edits.

But honestly, short story contracts are very simple. Novel contracts are a big deal, and you’ll often see people pouring over their contracts, identifying poor language, and renegotiating for better terms.

Short stories aren’t nearly as complicated. You should definitely understand what they’re asking. But unless you find something super nuts in there, you’ll probably just read it and sign it.

Step 3: Sign the Contract!

When you’re ready, sign that baby! Each place does it differently. I had one ask me to print it, scan it, and sign it. Some take e-signatures. Whatever. The editor probably told you how to fill out the contract when they sent it to you.

So sign that. Sent it in!

Step 4: WAIT FOREVER

And…. now what?

Probably nothing.

The thing is, the contract is signed. You’re good. It’s out of your hands. Now you just have to wait for the thing to be published, and that might take months. And unless you have edits to do, you’re done. It’s over.

Now, if you’re a crazy-pants worrier like me, you might be tempted to get anxious. What if the publisher doesn’t respond again? What if the publication is months away? Is there a chance they’ll decide not to publish me? Could they have lost my emails? Could anything go wrong? Do I need to check in periodically?

And no. No, no, no. You’ve signed the contract. Unless the publisher goes out of business or cancels the issue, you are pretty much guaranteed to be published. Cool your buns and wait.

(As a side note, though, you can probably start telling people you’ve sold a story. You’ve signed the contract. It’s a done deal! You could wait until it’s actually out and published–because at that point people can buy and/or read it–but that’s up to you.)

Optional Step 5: Edits!

Of course, sometimes you won’t just be waiting around. Sometimes you’ll have edits!

In this case, the publisher will have their editor work on your story. This is very standard stuff. You’ll work with their editor. You will be courteous and kind and open to their feedback. You will work together harmoniously and end up with a story everyone is happy with.

Optional Step 6: Biographies!

And sometimes they want you to write a short biography, too. Those are fun!

Optional Step 7: BUT THEYRE TAKING FOREVER and they didn’t respond to my contract and maybe it was lost and now theyre not going to publish it and its been months oh god

STOP IT

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about small presses, it’s that they’re slow. Slower than you would ever imagine. They are very busy companies run by a tiny number of people, so please. Have some sympathy. Have a lot of patience. They are going to be slow, slow, slow.

This means they may take forever to respond to your emails. They may not acknowledge they got your contract. You may toss your edits at them and never hear back, ever. These are all maddening, obnoxious things for a writer, but you have to let them go.

Of course, it’s OK to follow up if you have a big question, the publication date is looming, and you aren’t sure everything is ready. You can definitely send a polite question. But sometimes you’ll just have to trust that it’ll happen. It’s out of your hands.

You signed a contract. You’ll be published unless something goes horribly wrong. Just run with it.

Step 8: Publication!

Finally, your story will actually be published. And that’s when you can cheer, celebrate, read your own work a dozen times, and/or glory over your free copy of the book. Send the link around! Put it, without fear, in your future queries! “I’ve previously published short fiction at [Name of Publication.]” Heck yeah! You have!

You have a publication credit. Congratulations!

Optional Step 9: Get Paid

If this is a fee-paying publication, your last and final step will be getting your check or PayPal payment. But you might have to wait a bit. The contract says they’ll do that after your publication goes out… But, being a small press, they might be slow about that, too. Just stay on the ball and follow up as necessary.

All in all, it’s a slow but delightful process. And while nothing is set in stone until the moment the story’s published, you honestly don’t have much of a role in this. Sign the contract, do your edits, and wait. It’ll be nervewracking until the day you see yourself in print (or e-print), but believe me: It’ll be worth it.

The Stupefying Stories logo.

Hotlinked from the Stupefying Stories website.

I signed a short story contract with Stupefying Stories last week! I don’t have a publication date at the moment, but I’ll post dates (and links!) as soon as I have ’em.

In the meantime, I’m putting together a super-special article on what to expect when you sell a short fiction piece, which I’ll probably have ready to go by next week. Keep an eye out for it!

I’ve been querying my YA fantasy novel since September 2014, and oh man, it’s been a journey. I’m not quite done, so I can’t talk about stats yet, but I can definitely talk about the random things I’ve learned.

Lesson #1: I hate competitions.

I really, really, really hate competitions.

I’ve participated in PitMad, Pitch Wars, WriteOnCon, and Miss Snark’s First Victim’s Secret Agent. They’re great resources, but I don’t know if I like them.

And really: It’s me, not them. Contests consume me. I find myself hovering over the computer at all hours of the day, stalking the most successful entries and trying, desperately, to figure out what they’re doing right and I’m doing wrong. I get super competitive, I stay up late, I obsess until I have to force myself away from the computer, and then… well, I crash. Because that’s not sustainable. I almost always came away feeling miserable and spent.

These are wonderful resources. But they’re also crazy-stupid stressful. I’ll probably participate in more in the future, but I’ve got to be super careful. I have a lot more success in quieter, more private, less competitive situations… Like, you know, just querying agents directly.

Lesson #2: Fantasizing about success is poison.

When I first started querying, I got super into it. Every time I sent a query I spent hours pouring through the agents’ backlists and dreaming about what would happen if they liked my novel. That giddiness kept me going even when I didn’t feel up to querying.

But every time my emotions went up, they had to come down.

This also might just be me: If I get excited about something, there are only two options left for me. I either maintain that excitement (because all my dreams came true!) or I’m disappointed. And the more excited I am, the more disappointed I have to be.

And if it’s already hard to query, you can darn well bet it isn’t easier for me to depress myself first.

This was especially true whenever I got a full manuscript request. It was tempting to keep myself up at night going, “OMGGGG, I’m one step away from an offer! Most people don’t get this far!” Nope, that sucks, too.

Enthusiasm is poison to me. The best I can manage is a business-like professionalism. “Ah, a full request. Great. Let’s see how it pans out.” That’s a level of emotional involvement I can keep up forever.

Lesson #3: I probably was a little too cautious about querying.

For several months, I queried 10 agents at a time and waited for (almost) all of them to respond before I tried again. I was following some commonly heard advice: Send 10 queries, see how it goes, and then use your response rate to measure whether you’re doing OK or not. So I did that. Forever.

The problem was, this made me read too much into my response rate. I got two full requests in my first 14 queries. That’s really good, right? Then I got nothing for the next 34! That’s nearly 40 queries without even a personalized rejection! That’s awful, right? That’s “There’s something super wrong with your query” levels of bad, right?

Or, er, is it?

Really, numbers don’t mean anything. Queries are random. Some people like stuff, some people don’t. You can’t literally crunch your numbers, calculate a “success rate” and determine the numerical strength of your novel.

I had gotten some requests, so my novel had potential. Eventually I just sucked it up and blew through the rest of my agent list. But by the time I had done so, I had taken already slow process and drawn it out to almost a year.

Lesson #4: Don’t let the querying process keep you away from writing.

It’s really tempting to get deeply, deeply involved in the querying process–to spend hours and hours pouring over your query and triple-quadruple-quintuple checking your first few chapters and getting feedback, feedback, and more feedback! There are contests! (See above.) There’s #MSWL!

And QueryTracker! QueryTracker has stats! You could spend hours pouring over each and every agent you’ve queried, trying to guess where they are in their inbox. Oooooh, they’ve rejected all the queries ahead of mine! Maybe I’ll get an answer soon! Oh, this one’s rejected queries before and after mine! Am I in the “maybe” pile?

And… yeah, that’s just another form of getting my hopes up, isn’t it?

So yeah. If lesson #1 is to be zen about querying, lesson #2 is to query and forget about it. I remind myself to check in 3-4 months if I get a manuscript request, but that’s it. Queries go in the memory drawer, where I don’t have to think about them unless the agent responds one way or another. I have to go back to writing, focus on a new project, and let life go on. Otherwise I will literally lose hours of writing time.

Lesson #5: Querying is how you learn about querying. Do it sooner rather than later.

I waited until I had the best story I had ever written to query. I had kinda-sorta queried agents before, but… not really. I tried once. With one novel. I sent it to 10 agents, shelved it, and never tried again. I wasn’t really trying, because I knew the book wasn’t that good and I wanted to write a better one.

And while that’s not bad–good on me for recognizing that I had a lot to learn!–I also missed out on a chance to learn about querying.

Query letters, synopses, how to find agents, how agents work, what to do when you get a request… These are all things you learn by querying agents. And it’s stressful. And emotional. And often upsetting.

It also gets easier with time.

It’s like all sorts of things: You start out clumsy and confused, you don’t have any idea what you’re doing, and it’s stressful. But by the time I had sent out all my queries, I felt good. I was a pro at this. I knew what to do, what worked, and what didn’t. I hadn’t sold a book, but I had a pretty darn good run.

And I should have queried sooner. Because then I could have learned this all sooner, gotten it out of my system, and had a way easier time with this one.