I thought I'd be famous by now

Anyone who knows me has heard me say the following sentence: “This year is gonna be my year.”

Every year.

I can’t decide if it’s hopelessly delusional optimism or just denial. Maybe a little of both. And maybe that’s what it takes to be a writer.

Most writers understand that the journey is hard. It is not for the ones who take “no” for an answer. If you are new to the game and have stars in your eyes, I hate to break it to you. Writing is not an easy way to go.

I remember declaring that I wanted to be a writer. Although I didn’t make the decision until I was in my mid-thirties, I was happy to have finally discovered what I wanted to pursue. It didn’t matter to me how long it took to “make it.” I was going to pour my heart and soul into it, and it was all going to work out.

Cut to: seven years later.

My life isn’t drastically different. I’ve written six books, three of which are published. The other three are “in the works.” But the journey to get here was a rollercoaster of exciting highs and devastating lows.

With my first book (way back in 2018), I was naïve. I boldly stepped out into the querying world with so much unfounded confidence, you would have thought I was a New York Times bestseller already. I went to conferences. I talked to agents. I queried like my life depended on it, and I found someone who wanted to publish my book. It was a small publishing house, but I didn’t care. It was my first step, and once I was in, I would kick down the door to the publishing world!

By 2020, my second book and a pandemic arrived. Even though the second book was released, things at the publishing house weren’t going well. I decided to shelve the third and final book of the series and continue writing.

I wrote a lot. Being confined to my home with no social contact was good for me. I churned out a new novel (my fourth), and by 2022, I was querying a new mystery. I queried the crap out of that book, and with each rejection, I went back to rewrite. I got editors, beta readers, anyone who would give me feedback. I worked longer on that book than anything I’d ever written, and I was sure this was the BEST book I had to offer. Still, no takers.

By 2023, I’d written a new book (the 5^th one). This one was a thriller, and I was super proud of it. I queried it and quickly got a “yes” response. A literary agent wanted to represent me! I was ecstatic and overwhelmed. But a small part of me was like, “Yes! I knew this would happen.” My book went out on submission, but a short five months later, I was dropped by that agent. He’d “lost faith in his ability to sell my book.” Although I thought that was a load of crap, I was also devastated. I’m not gonna lie. I felt like I’d had my entire world pulled out from under me like it was nothing more than a cheap rug.

After I dusted myself off, I decided to part ways with the publishing company and get the rights back to my first two books. I revised them and finally finished the third and final book of the series. In 2024, I self-published all three of them. Then, I went back to the 5^th book and revised it too. I decided that if it got an agent before, I could find another (better) agent. I’m currently querying that manuscript.  

I don't know if self-publishing is the way to go. I'll find out, I suppose, since I have joined their ranks on Amazon. I'm not sure traditional publishing is the best route either, though. Traditional publishing always felt like the “validation” I needed to be called a real writer, but I don't believe that anymore. I may get an agent one day, or I may sell a gazillion copies of my books on Amazon. Who's to say?

"Sometimes it takes years and years to get to that one year that changes your life." I have no idea who to attribute the quote to, but I believe it. The journey has been hard, but I wouldn't dream of stopping short. And this year might just be my year.