I sent a query to an agent. I realized after I sent it that I didn’t mention anything about being self-published. It bothered me at first, but now it’s like, whatever. Does it really even matter? My first book bounces around in the top 100,000 on Kindle’s paid list. It’s better than the top 500,000, right? I wondered if my self-published success or failure would impact an agent’s desire to work with me.
After I sent the query I started stalking websites of other agents I might query. Here’s the thing. This agent’s literary agency only takes children’s books. Well, children’s, MG and YA. My book is more like new adult without high sex content. So, why did I query her?
Excuses. Excuses. I need these to keep me from slipping into a hole filled with donuts and french fries. A hole that will take me hundreds of hours on the treadmill to dig out of.
On my quest to find other agents should this agent pass I realized something.
Not all published books do well.
Agencies liked to list books they represented. So, I looked up a few and found they have less reviews and lower ratings than indie books in the same genre.
I started thinking why am I torturing myself? Why do I stand in front of the class in my underwear. Landing a lit agent might not amount to anything. Why am I setting myself up to fail?
Because what if I don’t.
What if this agent loves this book and knows the right editor who happens to be looking for this style at this time. What if that publisher wants to buy my book?
I have to believe that every great accomplishment started with what if.
What if I build a computer?
What if we make these wheels round?
What if I add cream to this coffee?
What if I look back on this post and think, “What if I never sent that query?”