some wounds fester

authors are an egotistical bunch. sue me.

i wrote a whole book about it. while querying, i had this apparition follow me around the house, lovingly whispering it’s not fair into my ear. in truth, publishing has nothing to do with fairness. it’s not fair that everyone is getting more requests than i, it’s not fair that my pitch isn’t getting likes, it’s not fair that someone who i perceive as less of a writer is getting the attention i’m not—hey, don’t lie; you’ve thought this before. or maybe you haven’t. as long as you’re not nasty about it publicly, where said author can stumble upon it, or in a group chat with too many people who will screenshot it.

the most prepared you can be for the feeling of competition, the professional envy, the harsh critiques, the lack of control, the better. develop thick skin before querying. you’re going to have to separate your self-worth from how high other people grade your work. leave your ego at the door before asking for feedback. you’re going to waste your time and hurt your chances if you can’t accept that your readers are not you, and they’ll have diverging opinions from yours. if you want to improve, you’ll take to heart what makes the story better and discard what doesn’t—remember, no ego. kill your darlings.

and when you go to sub, does the doubt vanishes? does it fulfill you? or does it drive you insane to see everyone go, go, go, while you can’t even start the car? and when you reach the last mile, will you be thinking of the next race already? this is when, again, you don’t need your ego in the way. because, if it is there, it’ll become a roadblock. it’ll have you dread every step of the way, especially if you surround yourself with complainers. it’s okay to complain! but there’s no need for it to become your whole personality, every publishing take edging nihilism, every author who’s doing better than you turning into your sworn enemy.

sometimes it’ll be a veiled thing, a comment disguised as well-intended, when, really, you just wanted the satisfaction. it is so satisfying to drag somewhere else down. they’re not even here! who cares? they’re big time authors, who’ll never cross your path. that shouldn’t matter. it matters because those strangers are living in your head rent free, and the time you spend agonizing is time you could spend doing literally anything else.

if you don’t treat the wound, it will fester. the environment here is far too harsh.

as always, i want to advise hope. if i were a doctor, i’d prescribe it to you. next time i show up, i’m going to tell you about how i overcame the submission dread. spoiler: i know it will be back, depending on how things go from here on. i also know how to fix it now, and that i can survive it. and no matter in what phase of the process you are, so can you.