Nobody Wants to Hear About My #Failures, or Do They?

IMG_20150502_162838Over the past few days I’ve had a couple of new, stretching experiences that I count as successes.

On Saturday, I participated in Authors for Indies day, a campaign to support and champion independent bookstores. As a guest salesperson at McNally Robinson Booksellers, it was my job to help connect customers with great books. I was super nervous coming up to it because I’m not much of a salesperson and I do have trouble walking up to people and initiating conversations. IMG_20150504_141632316_HDRStationed in the children’s books section, I had the opportunity to connect with a couple teachers, a librarian and some young readers and their parents. I had a great time and will definitely sign up to do it again next year.

On Monday, I had my first radio interview. I was so nervous coming up to it that I almost ended up in tears. Some stern self-talk kept me from slipping over the edge. The interview was on a Winnipeg radio station, IMG_20150504_135829453680 CJOB on the Dahlia Kurtz show. I came prepared to talk about different aspects of my book from the writing process, the struggle to get published to Enslavement’s theme of dehumanization and how the idea for the book came to me. The interviewer immediately put me at ease and though I could feel my hands shaking, I got through the interview. If you’re curious, click here for a listen: https://soundcloud.com/680cjob/melinda-friesen?in=680cjob/sets/dahlia-kurtz

Both of these opportunities were exciting. I pumped them up on my social media sites. But, yesterday I took a moment to go over my SM posts and it struck me how I’m trumpeting my successes, but silent about my failures. Do people want to hear about my failures? Do they want to hear how I’m struggling through my most recent edit? Will it come off as whining or as me being real with my readers?

Rejection ScreenshotFor the first time in a long time, I opened up an email file called “Queries.” It’s a positive name for a file full of rejections. I didn’t bother counting. There are a lot and I got weary of scrolling through all the rejections I’ve received for my novels and short stories–and that file doesn’t even include old rejections I didn’t transfer to my new computer, hard copies that were mailed instead of emailed and those who just never bothered to get back to me. I suppose I want my readers to know that I trumpet the successes, but behind the scenes there are at least 40 failures for every small victory.

I want to focus on the positive because focusing on the negative would drown me. But, I admit, it makes my life sound idyllic. Look at me living the dream while you suffer failure after failure, which simply is not true. This is a tough road, no, it’s not even a road–it’s a jungle you hack your way through inch by inch.

What do you think? Do you want to hear more about others’ failures? Does hearing about failure make you feel like you’re not alone, or does it make you feel hopeless? Does hearing about the successes make you feel envious or does it give you hope? Where is the balance between the two?

Querying: Almost as Fun as Childbirth

I’ve started querying agents again.

I feel a little like those purple minions from Despicable me 2.minion

I sent out a handful of queries last fall which resulted in a delightful collage of form rejection letters which left me feeling a little battered and bruised. die hard

I know some writers love this. They’re like, “Dude, I got another rejection letter. It means I’m real writer!” If you suffer this delusion, excellent! You’ve found a way of framing rejection positively. Stop reading now. I don’t want to ruin that because I wish I had the same Pollyanna attitude as you.pollyana

I, however, think that’s a big fat pile of poo. Anyone can get a rejection letter. Anyone. If my gerbils could hit the send button on an email, they too could get a rejection letter.

Those of you who contend it’s evidence that you’re putting yourself out there and taking a risk as a writer—that I’ll subscribe to. I need to submit, but I’ve come to associate querying with pain. Did you know that the part of the brain that processes pain is the same part that processes rejection? Indeed. Rejection is painful. So right now, I feel like I’m nine months pregnant. I need to get this baby out of me (aka my manuscript), but the only way to do that is to go through twelve hours of the worst pain known to man. Unfortunately, there are no epidurals for rejections.

I'm smiling because the guy behind me is the anesthetist.

I’m smiling because the guy behind me is the anesthetist.

Hey, and as I write this, the first rejection came in, just a couple hours after I sent the query. It was a personal note, which I always appreciate. She’s not interested in YA sci-fi. Deep breath. Move on.