Last night I was at dinner with the Future Mrs and the family when I received an e-mail on my smart phone from an agent. The initial burst of excitement was immediately replaced with “well crud” after discovering it was a form rejection. What’s interesting is that I had forgotten about the query since it was sent a long time ago. Long before I handed my MS to betas. Quality-wise, the pages I’d sent were telling and not showing which, as one AW friend said, waves the “Rookie Card.” Heck, after re-reading the pages, I would have rejected them.
I’m sure we’ve all been there.
That being said, it’s important not to get too down on yourself. Writing, like a lot of things, takes time, patience, and a thick skin. It’s hard to create a plot and develop characters. It’s even harder to get those concepts down on paper in a logical, orderly fashion. Then, once it’s all together, you have to tighten it, make it interesting, and create pages that pop.
But even after the story is polished to a shine, the real journey begins. Rejection after rejection may pour in (depending on the agent’s policy for query notifications) and the ego can take quite a beating. “How can anyone not love this thing?” you wonder.
The reality is that all it takes is one agent: the right one.
When I first mentioned my intent to write something worthy of querying to agents, an author friend of mine gave me the following advice: “You don’t want just any-old-agent. You want someone who you’re excited about. More important, you want someone who is excited about you.”
It’s funny, but there are a lot of parallels between writing and dating. There are literally millions of people out there that you could be content with, but only a few that have that special spark. They are the ones that you’re not only excited about, but are also excited about you. And many times, the path that ultimately leads you to them isn’t easy, but worth it in the end.
Rejections sting, no matter how thick your skin, but everyone gets them. Agents may pass on your story and sometimes you may need to rework and re-polish it. But finding that one agent who loves it will make the entire trip worth while.
Author: Joshua Roots
Categories
The Barren Weeks
The period between the end of winter and the beginning of spring is exceptionally hard on the bees. As temperatures warm during the day, the cluster breaks and the bees begin taking cleansing flights as well as the first foraging flights of the season. Unfortunately, these are The Barren Weeks where pollen and nectar are in short supply. Many keepers have to make emergency feedings to keep the bees alive and sometimes, no matter what you do, it doesn’t work.
Few things are as disheartening as the loss of a hive. Last year, the bees died from a suspected combination of mites and starvation. Despite battling the varrora and ensuring the bees had more than enough honey for the winter, the girls did not survive. It’s maddening to open a hive and see the cluster frozen on a frame, heads buried in empty cells, while frames of fresh honey sit neglected only one super above them. For whatever reason, they refused to access the food and died inside an empty larder.
Yesterday, the Fiancée and I discovered that the “new” bees were not only still alive, but ready to rock and roll. Hundreds of girls spilled from a gap in the inner cover caused by several large chunks of bee candy and many foragers were returning with overflowing pollen buckets. We added some pollen patties to the top (to give them a protein boost), removed the mouse-guard at the entrance, relocated the remaining candy to the bottom of the hive (to encourage the girls to use the landing strip), and sealed the top of the hive tight. For a while, the bees struggled with the change in entry points, but eventually they figured out where the entry point was located.
Watching them reassess the situation was an education in the intelligence of these insects. Most of the bees were either survivors from the last crop going into the winter or freshly hatched over the chilly months. The cluster broke maybe two weeks ago, so the majority of foragers only knew about the “gap” entrance up top. When it went away, they began inspecting the rest of the hive for access and, once a few discovered the landing strip, started re-orienting themselves. They’d take off, immediately turn to face the hive, and arc back and forth. Then they’d land and repeat the process again from a farther distance. Within minutes, a large number of bees had not only figured things out, but communicated the knowledge with their sisters.
We left them to their re-education with a feeling of optimism. Having opted to let these bees deal with the varrora on their own and only feed them in an emergency, it was exhilarating to know they survived. Better yet, they seemed healthy and eager to get back to work.
Losses are a part of life when keeping bees, but those that make it through the difficult months come out stronger on the other side. As spring approaches, it’s my hope that these battle-tested girls pass their knowledge on to the next generation. But it’s nice to know that, for now, they beat the odds.