Take A Chance On Me - Elizabeth Heise

When an accomplished author praised my work and offered to hook me up with her literary agent, I thought, this is it. Finally, the one time I don’t have to do things the hard way. A wave of entitlement washed over me—this was payback for all the times I’d been left to tough it out on my own. The agent would offer to represent me, I’d get a pass on the most challenging part of writing a book: getting it published. This big time player would sell it to a traditional publishing house and boom, I’d be set.

In my mind’s eye, the fantasy played on a loop: New York industry type perched at the edge of her sleek leather chair, flipping my pages in her book-lined office, delighting in my prose. Her perky assistant appears at the door. She is summoned over and shown a pithy turn of phrase. They share a knowing look. Two book deal, definitely. End scene.

This dream agent sat on the manuscript for weeks that stretched into months. Clearly, I needed to follow up with her. But as long as I didn’t, I could enjoy the fantasy.

A few days ago I went for a walk with a friend who asked about the book. I told her I hadn’t heard a peep but had meant to send a note, I just hadn’t gotten around to it. I had convinced myself that the agent was still considering it. “When you get home, reach out to her. I’m going to check in to make sure you’ve done it,” she said. My friend is a professional life coach with a finely tuned bullshit detector.

Not long after I hit send, I received a kind rejection letter. The sting gave way to relief. The agent had used the word “fascinated” (I’ll take my compliments where I can get them) but felt that in such a competitive category, she was not the right person to champion my book. Over the next few days, a range of insights germinated in my mind. The bonus to disappointment is that we learn far more when we don’t get what we want than when we do. Here’s my list:

All we are entitled to is the air we breathe. My old therapist repeated this mantra so often, you’d think I’d have it down by now. Unfortunately, my sense of entitlement is still a hairpin trigger. I deserved this easy breezy book deal. The thing is, I didn’t. It doesn’t matter what we have gone through. None of us finally gets our due. Unless you are referring to karma, in which case, look out. That is actually a thing.

It feels much better to know the truth. I didn’t realize that not knowing where I stood had caused a low hum of anxiety and an uncomfortable sense of stagnation. Sure, my denial vacation had temporarily protected me, but choosing to delay the inevitable lost me valuable weeks. I could have used that time to draft the lengthy book proposal that I will need to move forward. It’s not uncommon for writers to carpet bomb the literary world with query letters. There is no avoiding it, much as I would have loved to.

The universe is conspiring in your favor. This old standard is sometimes hard to believe, especially when the events involve painful emotions. But that’s the yin and yang of life. That fancy agent was not The One. Her candor about being fascinated but not inspired was discouraging, obviously. I wanted the offer and the validation that came with it. But if she couldn’t be my carny barker to the publishing houses, best to be up front about it. I wasted time pining away for her while my true love agent is still out there waiting. (Or whatever publishing platform I choose in the end—there are so many.)

There is no easy way out. Literally ever. Anything that is worth doing requires work. That’s been true for every accomplishment so far and this one will be no different. Time to roll up my sleeves and get this book proposal done. (Dangit.)

There is no escaping our own vulnerability. This is the lesson of my life. It’s bloody unheard of to have another author introduce a new writer like me to her agent, so I’ve already enjoyed an exquisite level of writerly generosity. Going in through the VIP entrance also allowed me to hide that terrified part of me that thinks I can’t face more rejection. Hello perfect stranger, do you love my book enough to work your tail off to sell it? The hard truth is that if we want to fulfill our purpose on this planet, there is no way to avoid putting ourselves out there into the unknown. We can hide, but then we don’t get what we want. And what kind of life is that? We just have to shut up and do it. I will let her extraordinary gesture be my rocket fuel. Someone who knows believes in me. That’s freaking amazing.

Believe in yourself and others will join you. The confidence of other people feels fantastic, but it’s not all we need to get us to where we want to go. I know my story will be someone else’s survival guide, as the saying goes. My faith in me is on display when I share deeply personal stories in this very public forum. My stories and I have been warmly received by all you beautiful people and it has been immensely gratifying. I am flinging my whole self out into the world and the good juju has come back. In a few weeks, I will be leading Guided Journaling at a magical retreat in the Dominican Republic. I have had the guts to take a chance on me and so have you. (Check out anahataecoyogaretreats.com, they are pure magic. Events are international and local in Miami.)

So after taking stock, my first move was to tell my editor the not great news. She kindly recommended a book proposal coach everyone loves. And then, before I lost my nerve, I reached out to a former writing teacher who is also a prolific author, to ask if she thought Scrappy would be right for her people. It may sound like another grab at a get out of jail free card. Maybe it is, a little. But the energy around it feels much different. I can ask for help, I can want everything, as long as I manage expectations. She owes me nothing. I asked her because she has always been my creative champion and if she could help, she would. In truth, I would not have bothered her but for the confidence the first author showed in my work. That was a revelation–a person who knows what’s good liked my stuff. New writers have no clue what it’s like to be on the receiving end of their stories. Positive feedback is huge. The validation of knowing my stories have struck a chord allowed me to be bold about asking for help. We really do need each other, as hard as it is for us go-it-aloners to realize.

When we take a chance and open ourselves up to the opportunities and the people all around us, we get the feeling that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: What will you take a chance on today?

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