I had to take several days away from this site, and from most of my other writing resources in general, to process feelings that I had hoped to avoid. On Friday, I heard back from an agent on a full request. It was a rejection.

It's not an exaggeration to say the major emotion I felt was grief, acute and perhaps a little despairing. I have conscious memories of planning to get a book published since I was eight years old, but the desire probably goes back even earlier. There is nothing I want more in my personal life right now that to see my name on the bookshelf. It's not for the vanity or prestige. Writing is simply such a part of my identity that this want is deep and intractable.

So it hurt to read that rejection. I ran through so many scenarios in my head the past few months of what would happen when I finally got the email, of the joy it could bring or the heartbreak, but that still doesn't mean I was really prepared. What's more, the rejection wasn't because of the story or the writing itself, which she said she liked, but simply doubts on marketability. I'm still trying to decide if that makes it worse or not. At least if there were something wrong with the book, I could try to dive back in and fix it. As is, I feel all the more helpless in an already fickle industry.

Logic, of course, says this is just one opinion. Logic says there are other agents, that it only takes one yes, that there are other stories in me to write. Logic also doesn't get very far when the issues are this intrinsic to my identity. I had to take the time to grieve, to avoid reminders of querying and agents for a few days. And that's alright. The time, the emotion, the love and commitment that's poured into a manuscript, I think is something everyone here can understand. When an agent says no on a full, it's so much more than that. It's a moment when a dream has been deferred, when you're suddenly thrust back to the starting point with one more dead end in front of you.

I'm not angry at the agent, for doing her job, for knowing the market better than me. Perhaps another agent will disagree. That doesn't mean this agent was wrong. If she doesn't know how to sell my book, she's not the right agent for it. I just wish she felt differently.

I'm not looking for advice or platitudes here. I know how difficult this is. I plan to keep querying. I'm going to dive into PitMad in September. I have another manuscript muttering in the back of my head that might demand to be let out soon. I will, one day, see myself get published. But for today, I needed to express my feelings, to allow my disappointment to be shared. Some of you have been here before (hell, I've been here before, when my manuscript wasn't quite as good as it is now and got a revise and resend). I hope that what I've written here doesn't resonate with most of you, that you get offers of representation and don't have to go through these feelings. But it's a hard industry, and I know some of you will. When it happens, if it happens, please know, your pain is justified. And the first few days, all the rationalizing of how this is not the end and that there is still plenty of hope, all of that won't mean anything. It's hard; it hurts; but if I didn't believe there would be joy at the end, then I wouldn't have started to begin with.

To all, productive writing, happy querying, and good luck.