Well, it happened. One of the three agents considering representing my manuscript passed on it this week. I got the email at work, which I think contributed to the initial numbness I felt. Driving home, sure, I cried—it’s devastating news, after all. Except, I didn’t ever feel devastated. Deeply disappointed? Absolutely. A little heart broken? Maybe… But alongside the sad feelings remained this certainty that this isn’t the end of the road. Rather than fear this is an indictment on my story—on my entire craft—I knew, in the marrow of my bones, I’m far from finished.
I love Solvi and her world. I’m excited to see how her story ends. But Blood and Water is not my opus. It’s not the be all, end all, and if it isn’t the first to be published, that doesn’t mean it will never be—nor does it mean nothing I write will be.
The feedback from this agent was so encouraging, especially the second time I read the rejection email. They praised my prose and narrative style, and called my writing impressive. It’s just the timing that’s off, a market that’s already saturated with similar stories. They even expressed interest in reading anything else I might have in a different genre.
I’ve already committed 2020 to Solvi and Ib, to finishing their story before moving on to a new project. There are still two agents considering my full manuscript (and four agents yet to respond to my initial query). But I also know this is only the beginning. It’s still my day to be brilliant!