Looking for an agent? Get whatever help you can.

Without a doubt, trying to land an agent is harder than actually writing your novel. I’ve known this for a long time, and my recent, and thus far unsuccessful, agent search is only confirming this with each passing day of silence. I’ve already passed the 10-rejection mark, with nary an idea of what I’m doing wrong. Such is the beauty of form rejection letters, I suppose. (Although I did receive one rejection that didn’t even bother with form, or even proper punctuation. Good as reason as any, I suppose, not to work with them.)

For a DIY person like me, who likes to do things himself to generate fast results, the agent search is particularly hard. So much of this is out of my control, it’s frustrating and maddening to no end. Writing and editing your novel, that’s something you have full control over: trying to sell that novel, and trying to convince an agent inundated in thousands of weekly queries, is another story. You can’t control whether the agent is having a bad day and dismisses your query on whim. You can’t control it if it’s some poor overworked assistant who’s just trying to get through his cluttered inbox. You can’t control it if the reader simply doesn’t like the name of your main character.

What to do in these instances? Get any help you can. Not only for help in perfecting your query package, but to help you get through it emotionally.

Here’s where I wish I weren’t on a desert island all the time. I’ve worked inside a bubble for most of my literary life, whether by choice or circumstance. As a result, I don’t exactly have a group or a mentor I can turn to who know the ins and outs of publishing, and who could provide assistance. I haven’t been able to turn to anyone and ask, “What’s wrong with my query letter?” This is mostly because I’ve never had a network of fellow writers or a mentor I could turn to, and it’s a mistake I wouldn’t encourage you to repeat.

I think most writers are smart enough to immerse themselves among a group of peers, whether in real life or through the Internet. If you haven’t, I encourage you to do so, because I’m learning the hard way that this process is as laborious and exhausting as raising a child. And as the old saying goes, it takes a village to raise a child. Likewise, it takes a village, or at least a creative community, to raise a novel from conception to publication.

Here’s the other reason why it’s good to have a network of support: moral support. The agent search process is long, grueling, and it will gradually shred your confidence until you’re convinced you’re the worst writer and the novel you thought was so great is a total piece of crap. In these times, it’s good to have a network of support that knows what you’re going through, and provide not only objective advice, but informed direction. It’s one thing for a family member to say, “Hey, it’s a great novel, just keep at it.” It’s another for someone who’s been through the agent search process to say, “It’s a good novel, but when I went through the same, here’s what I did.” I don’t know, maybe I’ve just fallen too deep into a “my writing sucks” mindset to think clearly, but sometimes I think this would be more manageable if I didn’t feel like I was on my own for this difficult process.

I guess it’s just been a very difficult few months, and I’m struggling to hold on in my personal and professional life. Problems at work, uncertainties at home, and a growing sense of self-loathing are only being exacerbated by this frustrating agent search. I’m sure that, as I near the 50-rejection mark, I’ll probably feel worse than I do now. I guess I have to hope that, at some point, some agent decides to at least give Inventing Vazquez a read. Otherwise, I may have to consider alternative publishing arrangements just to get this story out. And since I couldn’t afford self-publishing anymore, I might just post it online and let the story be told. Who knows.

Well, so much for never writing a blog entry while depressed. Many apologies.