Photo by Seth Doyle on Unsplash
So it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything on Substack, and you are entitled to an explanation. My last post (back in November!) was the concluding chapter of my then-adult speculative fiction novel, Ephemeral, featuring a graduate student who gets trapped on a planet where every day she ages a year — a doubly bad situation when Earth has a global age limit.
While I was sharing the latest draft with you, I was also seeking literary representation for Ephemeral. The first time I’d tried to get a literary agent back in 2018, it took hours of research, fifty-five query letters, and three full-manuscript requests before signing a contract. I felt so encouraged and grateful for outside professional validation of my writing. Until then, I’d wondered whether my work could actually succeed beyond my own desktop. I mean, I liked my stories. But that didn’t mean others would.
Unfortunately, though my agent and I got on famously, I soon had to learn a hard truth of the publishing industry:
Getting an agent is not the same thing as getting a book contract.
After trying for a whole year, my agent could not find a publisher for my murder mysteries. She liked my work, but without a publisher feeling the same, there was little she could do for me. But before we parted ways, she asked if I had any other stories up my sleeve. The only one I had was a short story about accelerated aging which I felt I could expand into a novel. This seemed like a great idea — only my agent did not represent sci-fi or speculative fiction. We dissolved our relationship without any hard feelings, and I started writing Ephemeral in 2020.
In the spring of 2022, I started a second round of querying agents — this time for my sci-fi novel. I assumed since I’d been successful once before, I wouldn’t have any trouble convincing someone to take on my new brilliant story. I spent hours researching potential agents and sent out sixty-five queries.
Then I waited. And waited. And waited.
Not only did NO ONE request a full manuscript from me, but nearly half the agents didn’t even bother to send a rejection form letter. I only knew they weren’t interested in my work when the typical six to twelve weeks passed without any news.
This was the low point for me — literarily speaking. What’s the use of writing stories if no one can read them?
I had seemingly done all I could do. I had polished my craft and brandished my queries. I had prayed and prayed for favor. But I still had ZERO control over others wanting my work. That’s around the time I discovered Substack and figured I could at least share Ephemeral with a few people while I started submitting to sci-fi publishers … also without success.
Not that I had much time to dwell on such things because my family was trying to transition from the city to the country. The excitement and disappointment of putting offers on houses only to watch them fall through stirred up the similar angst I felt in writing. Once again, I had no control over people accepting what I had to offer. And I felt stuck and utterly dependent on God to work things out.
I can do good work, but I cannot control how others receive it.
HOWEVER, it now brings me great joy to share that God has worked things out on both counts!
On the housing front, we miraculously settled on a sweet spot with five acres on which we now raise one mini jersey, two sebastopol geese, three kune kune pigs, four fiber/dairy goats, five loud ducks, three rabbits, thirty some-odd chickens, two cats, one golden retriever, and a hamster for good measure. I am very grateful for our five little human homesteaders helping out with the chores. Suffice it to say, the move and acquisition of so many animals in the spring of 2023 took up most of my headspace.
But back in February, two friends both gave me the same writing advice in the same week. They both recommended I submit Ephemeral to a publisher called Bandersnatch Books. I had seen Bandersnatch in my earlier querying and had liked the quality of their work. However, at the time they seemed to be specializing in YA literature, so I never submitted. Both my mysteries and my sci-fi were for adults. My friend, Emma — who’d recently signed her own book contract with Owl’s Nest — suggested I rewrite Ephemeral as a YA novel to open up publication opportunities. It just so happened that the submission window for Bandersnatch was about to open.
March was a blur of rewriting. On the second-to-last day of the submission deadline, I sent in Ephemeral. On the very last day, I sent in my adult murder mysteries on a lark. After all, they were already written, and I figured if nothing else they would show I could write more than serious sci-fi. I spent the next few months recovering from the big writing push in March and learning about homesteading stuff (such as how to tame a suspicious cow, what types of pigs eat grass, and how to build fences without breaking the bank).
Then, months later, I saw a Bandersnatch email in my inbox — a long email! They liked Ephemeral! And they had actually taken the time to read the whole thing and send me constructive feedback. They also gave me contact info for editors who could assist me with my manuscript and strongly encouraged me to submit Ephemeral again.
So, still no book contract, but at least I had positive interest and was happy to have some writing direction.
Then a few weeks later, I got an unexpected email. It was not a rejection form letter (which I still maintain is better than radio silence). Nor was it a constructive critique.
This time, for the first time ever, it was the offer of a book contract! And not for just one book, but for the first two books in my murder mystery series.
I think my children thought the dog had pooped on the floor or something, because my reaction to reading the miracle email was, “Oh my gosh!”
It’s been over a decade since I started writing my first murder mystery. Over a decade of writing, rewriting, praying, kvetching, hoping, grieving, and writing and praying some more.
I am truly thankful God is granting this deep desire for my stories to have the chance to be your stories one day.
Photo by Benigno Hoyuela on Unsplash
I’m also grateful for my husband and friends who’ve encouraged me through numerous tea time therapy sessions over the years as I’ve swung between hope and helplessness during this uphill writing journey.
I do apologize for one thing — that my recent agreement with Bandersnatch Books prevents me from sharing my murder mysteries serially as I did Ephemeral. I will still be posting updates as they come and hope to take this particular Substack publication in a new direction. Still figuring it all out.
But for now, I wanted to let you know the good news. Thanks for taking the time to read my work. You’re a part of this writing adventure too, you know.
We are so proud of you...one LONG journey. Just keep on walking, and teaing, and painting your canvases. I love the vulnerability and wonder in your words.
How so very exciting! Congratulations!!! 🎉🎊🍾