The Unmitigated Horror of Getting What You Want

I guess I should start with the exciting catalyst of this story, which is that a dream I’ve held and actively worked toward for the past six years has come true. I signed with my literary agent, Sheyla Knigge, in mid July!!!!!!!! !!!!!! I could keep going on with the exclamation points because I am simply over the fucking moon to be partnering with her. She is so smart and I’ve long thought she has excellent taste (proven by the fact that she signed me, I guess?), and I am so excited for the things we’re going to build together.

I’ve spent the past six years writing and making friends and learning and chasing the next step of the traditional publishing pipeline (getting an agent). I queried multiple books and got into Pitch Wars and watched so many stories I love die in the query trenches. I had been working on my Pet Sitter Romantic Thriller for the past year and preparing myself to dive back into the query trenches when I got the most surprising of curveballs—an offer from Sheyla.

At some point, I may do a whole how I got my agent post, but honestly it was such a wild experience and I think I need to process it more before I decide what to do with it, but what we need to know for the purpose of today is that she signed me while I was in the middle of a revision and I was supposed to send her the full revised manuscript “asap”. I say asap with air quotes because she asked me when I could get it to her and (being an overachiever always) I set the timeline and may not have been realistic with myself in how quick I could do it. Fast forward the next three weeks, in which I revised the entire first half of my book and sent it to her and she confirmed what I suspected which is… it wasn’t working the way I wanted it to. Not to say it wasn’t working at ALL; it just needed help. (I am forever grateful that she is so excited for this story and is willing to put in some elbow grease to help me get this book ready for submission.)

By the time I got her notes on the first half of the book, I was exhausted and feeling the pressure of my own expectations and facing down the horror of knowing my revision wasn’t working, so I had a nice little breakdown over the course of three days. To my friends who got the many texts and crying voice memos from me being like “maybe I’m simply not supposed to write books…” thank you for telling me that was dumb and to STFU in the kind but blunt ways that you did. I spiraled, I chopped and dyed my hair, I binged every episode of the hit musical TV series SMASH, and then I had a chat with my agent about her notes and my problems and at the end of it all… I felt okay? I felt like this could become a story I was excited about again and that I could make this book into what I believed it could be.

Looking back at that spiral, though, how strange it was to realize that this huge dream had come true, but have nothing in my daily life changed. My friends Lyssa and Anna talked about arrival fallacy on their podcast Turning To Story recently and it’s so worth a listen because they put into words so much of what I was feeling. Over the past six years, every time I thought about signing with an agent, I’d picture the excitement I would feel. So when it happened, the logical part of my brain was constantly like “why are you feeling this way? why aren’t you more excited? You’re getting the thing you’ve been wanting for SO LONG!” But in truth, I just felt sad. Sad that the girl who had worked for this for so long didn’t get to feel all the excitement she’d hoped and instead was just stressing about whether or not she was good enough. I was (and am) excited, and I’m intentionally taking time to celebrate, but so much of my initial excitement was displaced by how vulnerable it felt to suddenly have someone waiting for my words and not be certain I could deliver. Truly, the unmitigated horror of getting exactly what you want and realizing that mountaintop was not the end of the road.

My forever lesson in publishing is that I have to trust the process and it’s okay that I (and my books) are not perfect right away. That lesson is tied for first place with my other lesson: there is no escaping the work and to finish books you have to write, no matter where you are in the publishing pipeline.

There is a “happy for now” ending to this story, which is that I’m now halfway through what is basically a full re-write and this book is making me giggle and gasp and all the things I’d hoped it would. I’m crossing my fingers for when this goes on sub and I’m sure the next stage of the process will bring more spirals and lessons.

So, why did I say all of this in newsletter form? I think it felt important for me to say it here, to whoever made it to the end of my ramble, because so often we see people having their dreams come true and achieving their goals and we think “wow, I can’t wait to feel so excited when it’s my turn.” And then it’s easy to be taken by surprise when it is your turn and it doesn’t feel the way you expect it to. So, if you find yourself in a similar situation where you’re watching every episode of SMASH and wondering what is wrong with you, just know you’re not alone and there is no blueprint on how you’re supposed to feel when you finally get the thing you’ve always dreamed of.

tl;dr — am I out of my spiral?

For now, but I’m sure the next phase of this process will bring more so if anyone has binge-worthy tv shows worthy of a menty b, I’m building my list now.

photo of me at my dining room table holding the bottle of sparkling rosé that I kept for 2 years (and carried around the country as a nomadic pet sitter) only to be opened when I signed with an agent.