Gin & Tonic

I didn’t do a lot of dating in high school. My first boyfriend dumped me my freshman year, a week before the Valentine’s Dance. And about two weeks before he finally admitted to himself that he was gay.

My next boyfriend was…well, the less said the better. That lasted on and off through my junior and senior years. That is to say, most of the time I thought it was “on,” and he thought it was “off.” He took me to my senior prom because he felt sorry for me, but he refused to dance the last song of the night because he didn’t want me to think we were actually a “couple.”

Sigh.

These memories are flooding back to me now because I’m actively querying agents, asking for representation for my debut novel. Every letter I send feels like a first date. Will they like me? Am I funny enough? Am I not serious enough? How much should I tell them about myself? Do they want to see me again? Will they ask me to go steady? Do these jeans make me look fat?

I’ve send 13 query letters and pitched 3 agents in person at a conference. From those queries, I’ve received requests for pages (showing they were at least a little interested), from 3 of those agents.

I got immediate form-letter rejections from three agents, and thoughtful denials from three others. But, let’s face it — “it’s not you, it’s me” still stings.

Two of those rejections came today. Thus, the gin and tonics.

One rejection letter said “I loved the premise,” and “I see so much potential here.” And: “The pacing worked…and the synopsis has a clear narrative arc.” She just didn’t feel “as passionately engaged with the story progression as I’d hoped.”

So, she “likes” me. But she doesn’t “like-like” me.

I understand. I bear no grudge and have no hard feelings. I sincerely appreciate the kind things she said, and the time it took her to read my pages and write a personalized letter. She didn’t have to do that.

But, still…

I know the right agent is out there for my novel.

Someone who shares my vision and will work shoulder-to-shoulder with me to make this story the best it can be. Someone who will hold my hand while they shepherd the story to the right publisher. Someone who will celebrate every victory along the way to seeing my book on the bookstore shelves.

Someone who will never say those jeans make me look fat.