Why I Left Twitter, Where I've Been, & Whatsup With My Pseudonym: In which I check my ego at the door, describe my brutal experience with the query process, revisit my close calls with agents (but no cigars), and explain why I finally bit the bullet and tried my hand at self-publishing

So people regularly ask how my writing is going. And for the last year or so, I’ve said evasive things like “Fine. So how about those Celtics?” This post is an honest answer to that question and an apology/explanation to the awesome writer friends I met through Twitter and then went all Without a Trace on. It’s more a stream of consciousness than an eloquent missive, so go ahead and lower your expectations now, lol. Here goes nothing.

For the last three years, I’ve been pursuing traditional publishing. Like that British show about Essex, as far as I was concerned, Traditional Publishing Was The Only Way. I was dead set on being published by a major house, and believed that if I couldn't do it, that meant I wasn't good enough to be writing anyway. And when I started, I had absolutely no doubt that it was going to happen.

My first novel, which I shall heretofore refer to as My Superhero Book or MSB, was a passion project. I was passionate about the story, passionate about the characters, and one hundred percent convinced that the world needed this book. I named my blog after it. Through a combination of hubris and ignorance of reality, I even made a freaking Facebook page for it. I was certain that it was only a matter of time until an agent fell in love with it and my book became an overnight success.

I went through several rounds of querying, rewriting, and querying again. In the last round, I got big news – what I’d been waiting for all along – The Offer. I was, of course, ecstatic. Somebody finally ‘got’ that I was doing and wanted to be a part of it. I spoke to the agent on the phone, thought long and hard, but unfortunately, we just weren’t a good fit. This was not my agency. But I didn’t give up hope.

There were other close calls - two agents who represent books I know and like, were interested enough in mine to call me and talk about it. I got a helpful critique from one major publishing house I submitted to and was contacted by an editor from another after she found my blog. It really seemed like everything was coming together.

But it didn’t. When all was said and done, after the emails and phone calls and contacts made, there were no other offers. I did get some really helpful feedback, there were a number of industry professionals who read my entire book and gave me detailed feedback – that was incredible and I’m not discounting it – but it didn’t result in the offer I was hoping for. And that really sent me into a tailspin because I had not only put all my eggs in one basket, I’d put the chickens, cows, and pigs in there too. It had never even occurred to me that things wouldn’t happen the way I imagined they would.

I won’t say I’ve completely given up on My Superhero Book, but I think of it like an old CIA agent. Retired, but could come back in the game if something crazy happens. I’ve learned enough from the process to see what its flaws are, but although I can identify the issues, I still don’t have solutions. (And I’ve lost track of how many rewrites of this thing I’ve done) Now when I look at My Superhero Book, all I see a big, steaming pile of suckage.

During the course of all this querying, I finished rough drafts of two other novels, but I haven’t had the heart to edit them into anything even close to query ready. I just think about the heartwrenching two years I spent rewriting and querying My Superhero Book and I can’t work up the motivation to do that again. Although I feel like my writing has improved immensely since I stopped querying, my feelings are now the opposite of where they started. Instead of naively believing that my book is sure to be a success, I feel like anything I submit is going to be a waste of time, that I’ll end up spinning my wheels again, trading emails back and forth, getting feedback and hearing that people are interested, but ultimately ending up without an agent or a publisher. Going through the query process without reaching the outcome I wanted really did a number on my self-esteem as a writer. And it doesn’t help that writing novels means spending a lot of time working on one thing with limited feedback. Of course critique partners help, but you’re still mostly in a vacuum, pouring your heart into something that may end up being a total failure.

There are ways to decrease the isolation of course, but for me, sometimes they’re more harmful than helpful. Last year, I was really into Twitter. I spent most of my evenings writing, and I’d log onto Twitter and commiserate with other writers while I worked. I made friends with some pretty awesome people and found a great source of encouragement in what can be a very lonely world. But – I was also bombarded with stories of people who were accomplishing what I was trying to do. Maybe bombarded isn’t the right word. But that’s what it felt like. After a while, it seemed like literally everyone on Twitter was being agented and published, except for me. Like Oprah was on the site, holding out her arms and yelling, ‘You get a book deal! And you get a book deal!’ and I was standing outside, in the cold, cold rain, with my face pressed against the glass. I know. That’s super melodramatic. But in my head, that’s how it was.

So I checked out. I just stopped using Twitter. Despite the positive moments, it was working my self-doubt up to a fever pitch. As Kanye said first, and Kirk Franklin repeated, we’re all self-conscious. Guess I’m the third to admit it.

There I was, avoiding anything writing related, and sitting on a first manuscript which had been through the ringer and two unedited drafts. I went through periods of not writing, but I’d always go back and pick it up again, outlining new ideas or doing a little work on my drafts. But I didn’t want to commit to getting fully absorbed in editing, and starting another book seemed pointless. I felt like I was just spinning my wheels. And I wasn’t anywhere near accomplishing what I really wanted, to produce work that I was proud of and have people read and appreciate it.

            That’s how I started to come to terms with the idea of self-publishing. But I was still leery. The idea made me feel….lame. Like I’d be admitting defeat and projecting to the world 'she's not good enough! no agent or editor would take her book because her writing sucks!' And that is definitely true about some self-published authors. Let’s be honest. It’s true about a lot of them. But definitely not all. I did some digging and found self-published books like Susan Bischoff’s Hush Money. I love this book. It’s absolutely fantastic and a lot better than many books I’ve paid ten bucks for in stores. She’s agented now, but had a lot of success as an indie author first. It just goes to show how you can write something that doesn’t connect with an agent, but is a huge hit among readers. And once the readers come, sometimes the agents aren’t far behind.

            So I got comfortable with indie publishing. But I still didn’t feel like starting another novel or editing my old ones. I was too battered from the failure of My Superhero Book to work myself up to it. Plus, I had a lot of ideas which I’d outlined and really liked, but hadn’t figured out how to develop into full novels. Since publishing houses generally won’t even consider YA works under 40,000 words (and that’s a low estimate), I’d never thought about writing anything else. Then it hit me. Since I was taking a break from writing for publishing houses, I didn’t have to keep writing novels. You can find more on that here.

            Now I’m writing novelettes, between ten and twenty thousand words. I’ve finished one, Friends With Words, and working on it was the most fun I’ve had writing in a really long time. You can check it out on Amazon here if you want. I do think I’ll go back to novel writing at some point, and even give New York publishing another go, but right now my ego needs a break and I just wanna stay in the place where writing is fun again.

            So why the pseudonym? For one thing, I’m really uncomfortable with the idea of pubbing my own work. Just thinking about asking someone to read my book makes me cringe and break out in hives. Okay, no hives. Lots of cringing though. And I start imagining things like 'Omigosh that girl from high school that was always so mean is going to find my work and be all 'of course she’s self-published because she couldn't get an agent' and everyone I know is gonna be judging me so hard. Because obviously, they all have nothing better to do than sit around and think about what I’m doing, right? I realize how ridiculous that is, but I still worry about it. For whatever reason, writing under another name makes me feel a lot more okay about advertising my work. And as I write, I don’t worry about ‘Oh, I can’t say that. What if my Great Aunt Greta reads that?’

I was always one of those people who thought Beyonce was ridiculous for having an alter ego, but now I get it. She was all "You expect me to do what? Walk onstage in a bedazzled leotard and do the splits on top of a camel?!?!?" And her people were all, "No, we know you’re shy. We want Sasha Fierce to do that." And then she's all "Ohhh. Well in that case, cool." At least, that's how it happens in my head. According to MTV.com, she "created her alter ego Sasha Fierce in an effort to separate her own shy personality from her stage persona and give herself the courage to be free and sexy while performing." That's kind of how I feel about Gemma Bennett and my writing. Not that I need to be free and sexy with my writing, lol, but I do less second guessing of every word. If Beyonce can be self-conscious enough to have an alter ego, then gosh darn it, so can I.

So that’s it, what I’ve been up to and what I’m up to now. Stay tuned here to see how it works out.