What I Have Learned This Year…Chasing my Dream

Remember when you were a kid and you saw “old folks” who looked at everyone and everything in a suspicious and angry way that made you wonder what awful thing had happened to them? Maybe they felt as if the world had passed them by and nothing could possibly go right anymore. Those were the folks who bemoaned the good old days and hated the world as it had become. They refused to adapt.

I think I get it. I’m touching the last third of my life, and, although 60 is touted as the new 50 (or whatever), the wear and tear on the mind has ramped up and taken me the other way. Sleep deprivation, confusion, and trying to grasp everything tossed at me from all over the world is a reality that isn’t going to get better. I will have to adapt or fall into that miserable group, which will not be good for anyone I come into contact with. This is a hard lesson to learn and I’m struggling.

I’m also chasing a dream.

Once upon a time I graduated from USF with a BA in English Literature and a determination to continue with graduate school for a masters. I even thought seriously of getting a PhD, and teach. I loved my professors who shared their love of good stories and books with me. What could be more satisfying than enriching my student’s lives while writing the next great American novel? But life had other plans and my personal world fell apart for a while, causing me to move to another city and shift focus. I ended up in  corporate sales and left my early dreams far behind. Eventually I married, had a son and started my own business. Writing and teaching became a lost dream.

Fast forward twenty years. My business had grown to be a viable contender in the security integration field. The obsession to write again gobsmacked me hard and I decided to sell the company and get back to my dream before I died. I envisioned myself on my deathbed murmuring over and over I wish I’d written; I wish I would have followed my dream. Let me tell you, that jolted me straight up in bed many nights. I had no choice but to listen to my obsession. At the time, my love for dogs and children translated into two early readers. I found a talented illustrator to give life to my stories and self-published. I immersed myself in giving readings at schools and libraries to wide-eyed elementary schoolers.

When my interest switched to creative nonfiction, I began taking online classes and writing essays which I sent out to different literary journals. I remember vividly the early fear of submitting and the heartbreak of rejection, but also the thrill of getting published. Write well, revise, and submit (and submit again and again) and see your name in print. Simple enough.

On a trip to Germany to visit my maternal family, I learned about a closely held secret that blew up the family genetics. So began a journey of discovery that took four years, and netted me hundreds of thousands of words in research and interviews. These became a very bad first draft. Seven revisions and two developmental and line editors later, I had a completed manuscript that I was pleased with. I was a self-published author through my children’s books, but I wanted the “validity” of being traditionally published for this story that had demanded to be written. One that had me hunched over my computer for hours a day and infiltrated my dreams at night. Old school: write book, find agent, get published in the arms of a traditional house.

I knew my story was unique, felt it was well-written and had a satisfying takeaway for anyone who ever had to question the legitimacy of their birth. I had done my job as a writer and that would be enough, right?

Wrong.

Beginning in May of 2021, I devoted time to researching the publishing world: faithfully reading Publisher’s Marketplace every day, following agent and editor tweets, taking classes on querying and book proposals, researching agencies and agents. Turns out, writers also need to be social media icons, technical wizzes, and business savvy.

I built a website, upped my time on social media, and followed those who had been successful to glean any bit of knowledge I could. My social media numbers are…nothing great; nothing great at all. I have not been one to jump out of bed and begin posting and tweeting every day, sharing my life with people I don’t know. (Most of the people on my platforms are actually folks I do know.)

Because I’m offering memoir, I have to qualify myself to agents and publishers. I have to show that readers will be interested in what I have to say, not only because of the subject matter but also because of me. Along with a stunning query letter, I needed a dynamic book proposal. The query letter offers your best pitch, both for your story and for your qualifications as a writer, and your marketing status which should include social media statistics. The book proposal is essentially a business plan that reassures an agent and/or editor that you and the book have what it takes to make money. As an ex-business owner I understand business plans and ROI. I know how to market. But I thought I was done with “all that!”

A newsletter from an indie press jolted me with these words: “we are looking for at least 10,000 highly engaged followers on a single platform…”, along with an author brand that nets followers who supposedly will buy your book. A recent New York Times article questions the validity of this assumption. The article cites recent memoirs written by pop stars with millions of followers on social media that only did so-so in sales. Here is the link to the article: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/12/07/books/social-media-following-book-publishing.html

It’s tough enough to get the attention of anyone in the industry right now, agent or editor. The market is swollen with submissions. Many overwhelmed agents are closed to queries. Many small publishers are closed to submissions. And suddenly I feel as if memoir is the red-headed stepchild of genres. I see few agents looking for  “for their list.” And those who do, want to see a platform indicative of an author/celebrity brand that will translate into sales. I can’t blame them; competition for the next mega-seller is fierce. Why not assume that a writer with an extensive following will sell more books than one who’s barely known, or known at all?

Of course, the one thing we can rely on is that the market will shift and change. But, as much as I love the feel of a lovely hardback book in my hands, I have to concede that digital is the future. Kindle’s rising star is a testament, as is Audible. Podcasts are now the way to get information on any subject. The new generation of writers easily embraces words on a screen and seems to have an intuitive knack for all things electronic. They don’t balk at tapping on their phones all day, building and connecting to their “fan” base. The right perspective makes it fun instead of a necessary chore. They also embrace self-publishing and the control it gives them. And they don’t want to have to look at my scowling face…

I guess for 2022, I need to decide what my perspective will be