One Year Later: Honest Thoughts and Reflections from the Submission Rollercoaster

If you’re a writer, you know that much of this industry operates behind a curtain of mystery and secrecy. 

Whether you’ve just started querying or submitted your third project to your editor at a Big Five, we all know the unspoken rule to not share certain details online. When querying, some writers tend to shy away from sharing timeline details so agents don’t know when they’ve been at it for months and clearly had no bites. Once on submission, or “sub,” the mindset is essentially the same. Then when a writer gets positive feedback or has a near acquisition, the editor and imprint names must be kept private. Auditioning for an IP project? Buckle up, there’s probably an NDA involved. 

This secrecy isn’t bad by any means — I understand why these protections are in place for authors, agents, editors, and publishers — but it sure makes this journey feel confusing, lonely, and siloed at times. Writers love to support each other, often in the form of social media communities, so it’s hard to be transparent about the highs and lows of the journey when most of what happens in publishing can’t or shouldn’t be shared online. As a result, we only see happy posts with cute Canva-designed screenshots of Publishers Marketplace deal announcements — we don’t see the many tears and heartbreaks that led to the moment of victory.

I’ll keep it vague (and keep that secrecy mostly intact), but I want to share a bit about my experience so far. I’ve had moments of pure hope, bitter despair, and everything in between. And even though I haven’t crossed my finished line yet (for me, that’s a traditional “trad” book deal), I hope my story and experiences can help bring some clarity and hope to others on the wild rollercoaster that is submission — and feel a little less alone.

Let’s start at the beginning — a beginning that can likely be inferred from the title of this post. I won’t share too many details (back to that secrecy cloak) but my submission journey began a year ago today with just a few pitches to test the editor waters. I know I shouldn’t be sharing this date and publicizing my timeline, but it’s an important one, as the one year mark is typically when agents and authors sit down and have the hard conversation of shelving (giving up for now) or drastically revising the book. Let me be real with you folks: hitting this date is really, really hard. Like many authors, I put my heart and soul into this story. It’s been with me for over a decade. When I went on sub, I (like many) truly thought I’d be the exception to the rule of difficulty and immune to the odds, getting my story picked up right away. As the weeks and months went on, coming to terms with the opposite was a difficult and dark period of self-growth and reflection that I will discuss another time.   

While I’ve technically been on sub for a year (and it sure feels like I have), the timeline isn’t as straight forward. My book is classified as Upper MG or Lower YA, but I’ve always seen it more as YA, and that’s what I queried it as. Naturally, Andie (my lovely agent!) and I began sub with the book in the YA category. We got great and positive feedback about the premise, worldbuilding, pacing, etc., but a common reason for passing was that the voice was a little young. Fair. And good feedback, honestly! The book is meant to sit in that younger space and lean into Upper MG. But after some time, it became clear that we should also try the book as Upper MG. So after some edits and some other curtain-y things, a MG version of the book went out this past April. One of the very first passes for the MG version came soon after, saying that the book was too sophisticated. Sigh. Finding a home for any book is a Golilocks and the Three Bears adventure, but straddling the MG/YA divide has made a just-right fit that much more elusive. But as I’ve said since the very beginning of my querying journey, I believe in this gray space and giving these underrepresented ages, perspectives, and life experiences a place on the shelf. I’m going to keep fighting for it until I find an editor passionate about it too.  

On submission as the MG version, we found out that the book went to acquisitions at [redacted], but was ultimately passed on. For those who don’t know, this is a HUGE deal. Going to acquisitions means an editor read and loved a submission (book manuscript) so much that they brought it to the rest of their team with the hope and intent of buying the book. They sit around a real or virtual table and discuss everything from marketing plans to comparable titles to potential sales figures. Everyone reviews the data, gives opinions, and then ultimately decides if they want to proceed in acquiring the title (get it, acquisitions meeting haha). From the little I know, the majority of submissions don’t make it to this terrifying yet thrilling moment when a book’s future teeters between yes or no. Finding out after the decision was made was the most eerie feeling — I was both honored and so devastated to know that my book baby had been discussed at that high of a level and been so, so close to a yes. While I had obliviously been going about my normal day, a publishing team had discussed buying my book. An editor loved my story enough to fight for it. It was surreal in the best and worst way. I won’t give details on the pass, other than it ultimately being factors outside my control. It was hard, but I felt so encouraged that good things were to come. 

After the near acquisition, Andie approached me with my first IP project. For those who might not be familiar with this, an IP project is when agented authors “audition” to write a book based on a complete story outline from an imprint. The project (YA and from a Big Five imprint, that’s all I’ll say), was a perfect fit for me, down to every last detail. I was so excited and basically wrote the submission packet — the first chapter and a chapter from anywhere else in the story I’d like — in a single weekend. It came so naturally and it was a thrill to write. I knew getting selected was a long shot, but I was hopeful. Andie sent off the final version and we waited with fingers crossed. We heard back a couple weeks later, finding out that we sadly didn’t get it. But there was a silver lining — I had been the first runner up. Yet again, I was so close. A huge fish had once again just barely escaped our line. I felt so validated and encouraged, but ultimately a pass is still a pass. 

Do things really come in threes? I’m curious to see. Maybe I have another “almost” around the corner. Or maybe, just maybe, this next one will be the “yes” I’ve been waiting for. But even if it’s not, I’m grateful for these instances of “almost.” I count these moments as encouragement against the insecurities that have settled into my subconscious over the past few months. 

So if you’re a writer, wherever you’re at in the journey, please don’t let the rejection get to you — remember that you ARE talented, you DO have a story worth sharing, and your time WILL come. Don’t forget that everything in this industry is so, so subjective. Be patient with yourself. It’s okay to grieve that things didn’t go the way you hoped, thought, or dreamed. And if it’s hard to love writing again, that’s okay too. 

Take a moment to count the wins as well. These recent confidence boosts have made me even more grateful for my writing team: my incredible friends/critique partners and my insanely hardworking, passionate, and industry savvy agent. The journey has been bittersweet, but my heart is full. 

So to my fellow writers — I’m always here if you need. Please reach out if you have any questions about sub or simply need a friend 🫶