Since I decided that this would be the year to start sending The Book to agents, I feel like the months have gone by abnormally fast. And with each passing week I feel my emotions oscillating between hope and sadness. And much self-doubt. The first two agents could do nothing but reject my work, seeing that I accidentally sent them the wrong versions (the one with spelling mistakes on the tenth page. Yikes!), including a synopsis that randomly cut off mid-sentence without documenting the end of the story. When I realised my error I was beside myself, cringing and annoyed. However, I got back to it, and sent it to the third agent. They rejected me too. So I decided to revise my synopsis and covering letter again, and I sent something to what looked to be an amazing agency on Bank Holiday Monday. By Tuesday afternoon I had received my rejection. It made me doubt everything, and I started to wonder, with four form rejections, am I doing something wrong? I just might be.
I went back online, looked for more varied covering letter templates, scoured as many examples as I could to ensure I was as succinct and focused as possible. I would like to have someone else look over my submission, too. Next month's payday will go towards sending my submission package to The Literary Consultancy, just to get a truthful opinion on everything, I have nothing to lose. But I don't plan to receive another form rejection. That kind of self-doubt can be crippling. In the meantime I've been reading The Man in the High Castle which has been a wonderful distraction, and as always, I've been able to learn so much just by reading the first four chapters. There's a particular exchange between two characters that has been illuminating to read: so little said, no description, but the emotions are there and it's a brilliant thing. The only thing that will keep me from going mad is my desire to learn from other writers, and getting lost in another story. I'm trying to think of another novel to read after this one, because I need to be transported some more, and to remember that all of these brilliant people were rejected once, and again, and again.