So, You Want to Be an Author?
- Iain Luke Jones
- Jan 17
- 3 min read

Ah, the glamorous life of a writer. Sitting in a cozy nook, sipping tea, and weaving tales that will one day leave readers in awe. At least, that’s what I thought before I embarked on the thrilling (read: emotionally exhausting) adventure known as the submission process. Spoiler alert: it’s less of a glamorous montage and more of a long, awkward series of blind dates where you’re not sure if they’re ghosting you or just stuck in traffic.
But let’s rewind to the beginning…
The Hopeful Beginnings: "Dear Agent…"
There’s nothing quite like sending out your first query letter. I remember pouring my heart into mine, agonizing over every word. I researched agents, tailoring my approach to each one. Surely, they’d be blown away by my brilliance.
The first response came quickly. "Thank you for your submission. Unfortunately, it’s not a good fit for us at this time." A rejection, but at least it was polite! I consoled myself with tales of famous authors who had been rejected dozens—nay, hundreds—of times before making it big.
The second response? Another form rejection. And the third. And the fourth. By the tenth, I could recite the rejection email in my sleep. I considered adding it to my CV under “Special Skills.”
Rejection Roulette: The Many Flavours of "No"
Rejections are like snowflakes—no two are exactly alike. There’s the short and sweet "not for us" (brevity is merciful, I suppose). Then there’s the one that’s just vague enough to make you spiral: "There’s a lot to like here, but it’s not quite what we’re looking for." What does that even mean? Did they like it but not love it? Was it the pacing? The characters? My use of adverbs?!
My favourite, though, is the one where they tell you to keep submitting elsewhere because "publishing is subjective." Translation: "Someone might like this, but it’s not us. Good luck out there, champ."
Waiting: The Endless Purgatory
Of course, before rejections roll in, there’s the waiting. Oh, the waiting. I imagined agents reading my manuscript by candlelight, moved to tears, whispering, "This… this is it." In reality, they were probably skimming it during lunch breaks between meetings.
Some didn’t respond at all. They call it a "no-response-means-no" policy, but it feels a bit like someone swiping left on you without explanation.
Indie Press Submissions: A Glimmer of Hope?
After countless agent rejections, I turned to indie presses, convinced they’d see my work for the masterpiece it is. Indie presses often promise a more personal touch, and they deliver… even when rejecting you. "There’s a lot to like, but we’re not the right fit for your manuscript. Wishing you the best of luck!"
It’s a bit like hearing, "It’s not you, it’s me." Comforting? Sure. Still a rejection? Absolutely.
Lessons Learned: "What This Process Taught Me"
Here’s the thing: the submission process is brutal, but it’s also character-building. I’ve learned patience (sort of). I’ve grown a thicker skin. And I’ve realised that rejection doesn’t mean failure. It means you’re trying. You’re putting yourself out there. That’s no small feat.
I’ve also learned to celebrate small victories. A personalised rejection? Progress! Someone asking for a full manuscript? Break out the champagne!
The Bright Side: "Why I’m Still Writing"
At the end of the day, I write because I love it. The joy of creating characters, building worlds, and telling stories outweighs the sting of rejection. And who knows? Maybe the next email will be the one that changes everything. Or maybe I’ll self-publish and take the reins myself. Either way, I’ll keep writing.
Because for all its ups and downs, this journey is mine. And I’m not giving up on it.
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