When I first decided to dip my toe into novel writing, it turned out to be more of a cannonball. I knew zero about the publishing industry, but I wrote my first book during NaNoWriMo 2020 and never looked back. I had missed writing, and I found such joy in the hard work of bringing my story to life. It was fun. It was no pressure.
When that first book was complete, I looked into how to become a traditionally published author. I knew I wanted to try that route for my work because I knew I personally wasn’t cut out for self-publishing. I also didn’t know what to expect from traditional publishing, other than stories I had read of various author experiences. Those stories taught me that every journey was vastly different, and also, maybe, not to get my hopes up. I went into the querying process with the thought that if nothing else, it would be a learning experience. And of course, I got my hopes up.
As a whole, I queried over the course of 18 months with two books. It was nerve racking. With my first manuscript, I changed my query between rounds. For both books I made ranked, color-coded spreadsheets of agents and tracked every submission on QueryTracker. I stayed up to date on the latest Publisher’s Marketplace news. I lurked multiple writing subreddits and followed writers on Twitter and Instagram. Other writers advised me to write the next thing, so I wrote the next thing. Why? Because the actual fate of my manuscript was out of my hands, but all this other stuff? That was in my control. It was a comforting illusion.
I had an epiphany over the weekend. I had sent my new outline to my agent last week, the same agent that enthusiastically offered rep on my debut, that gave me wonderful, insightful feedback on it that made my story stronger, that turned around and sold it in deals to publishers across the world who were equally enthusiastic about it. I value her insight. I know her feedback improves my story. So after I sent it, why couldn’t I focus on anything, my mind bouncing, my body unable to settle, as if I’d drank too much espresso? Because I had given up control. That outline was now out of my hands.
It will be back, of course, that’s how these relationships work: writing, letting it go, seeking feedback, and getting the work back into your hands to make improvements. It’s a collaborative, layered process. It makes the work better. And an outline of all things! An outline is just the beginning, meant to grow and change and develop. So why does it feel so distressing to give up control, even to a trusted career partner?
For a debut like me, I think part of it is the novelty. At this stage, every next step is brand new. As I try to reconcile that, my closest comparison—and I’d wager it’s the same for many of my fellow first-time authors—is completing writing assignments for school. It’s been YEARS since I went to college and gave my work to my professor for a grade, but if you are also a people pleaser like me, especially one who sought validation from school performance (looking at you, my fellow straight-A earning, extra credit completing, talented and gifted students) then turning in your work to an agent or an editor can feel less like a business partnership and more like hoping you did your assignment properly. Age doesn’t factor into it, alas, as I am 41 and older than my agent (I never said it was a reasonable thought process). But as far as the publishing business goes? My agent is a rockstar and a veteran of the industry, especially when compared to my newbie, debut status; the “professor” to my “student.”
In the past when I was querying and editing, I told myself that as a writer all I can do in this world of publishing is write the best book that I can. I still believe that and I still tell myself that, so that no matter what happens, I can look at my book and be proud of it, know that I wouldn’t change anything about it, have no regrets. But I think now, I would add a caveat. I still personally think writers should work on that next thing when they’ve passed over the control of their work to someone else, even if it’s only temporary—like waiting for feedback—as long as they’re in the right headspace for it. If it gives you that sense of control back, go for it. For me personally, I would work on another third thing while I waited if I had it. But maybe you can’t focus on writing at the moment. Maybe you need a break. Maybe you need to spend your energy on something else, and that’s okay too.
My number one recommendation for any writer feeling restless with their “book baby” out of their hands would be to get outside and take a walk. Seriously, it works wonders and it doesn’t need to be far. I pop in my headphones, play some music I’ve listened to a million times before and walk a path I’ve walked probably just as often. It clears my head. I’ve done this A LOT. For me, outdoors is better than indoors, but any indoor space is better than a stationary treadmill or walking pad for letting your mind wander. I enjoy going the same way over and over again because it means I don’t have to think about the actual walking. Instead, it’s an easy, comforting routine. Once you’ve stopped rolling your eyes at my lame Millennial advice, go try it. It doesn’t even have to be uphill both ways in the snow.
Now that you’ve cleared your head and gotten rid of all that weird anxious energy, I’d recommend doing something that you have complete control over. It can be choosing a new book to read, starting on that new WIP, trying a new recipe, or tackling a project you’ve been meaning to get to. I like to knit. Whatever it is, it should bring you joy, not stress you out. If you’re going back to writing and it’s not exciting you, put the pen down and pick up your book or your video game controller or your knitting needles instead. Focus on something that you enjoy, but make sure that whatever it is, it places no outside expectations on you. Rinse and repeat until you’re feeling more in control and more like yourself.
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