JOB DREAM

[This is the fourth of a monthly newsletter that follows the process as two manuscripts become books in 2026. Join me for a behind-the-scenes look at how traditional publishing works, step-by-step. To sign up, click the Newsletter tab in the menu. Find past newsletters under the blog tag of my website.]

When I tell people I write children’s books for a job, their eyes light up. It sounds like a dream job.

We often say those two words as if they’re one: Dreamjob. And the emphasis is always on the word ‘dream’.  DREAMjob.  Which sounds, well, like a dream.

But it’s still a job.

And every job, IMO, is a mix of good and bad. I’ve had to remind myself of that and not just accept it, but expect it. I think that’s a major reason I’ve been able to stick at this for so many years during so many bad times. And that’s where I was in November of 2023 where the journey picks back up: A bad time.

I have the almost-finished draft of a middle grade manuscript I’m calling MONSTER DOWN DEEP. With my other manuscripts, including all nine books that I’ve published, I simply emailed the story to my agent. She read it, offered notes for revision, and then sent it out to editors at publishing houses.

But I no longer have an agent. Caryn and I parted ways in 2020. For a brief six months, I had another agent, Jonathan Rosen, represent me. But then Jonathan moved on from agenting and I was pretty much on my own.

Not for lack of trying.

I sent out a lot of query letters over those years. (A query is basically a sales letter to an agent pitching a manuscript and asking if they’d consider representing me.) I got a lot of rejections. You know it’s bad when you have to gather your courage to open your email. And I’m not a wimp. I got my first rejection letter when I was fourteen.

But even thick skin bleeds.

And without an agent, a lot of publishers won’t even look at a manuscript. The odds start off terrible—out of every 100 manuscripts submitted only 1 or 2 get published. Without an agent, it gets much harder.

I do have another option and that’s to self-publish. But if I do that, I have to pay an editor and proofreader and someone to format the book and a cover artist…. I decide if I’m going to have to do that as some point, I might as well spend some money to publish the way I want: with an agent and a traditional publishing house. I’ve never hired an expert to read and provide revision notes, but this time I will. If I can make my story stronger, maybe I can find an agent.

Then I see a submission opportunity. The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) newsletter has a notice: An editor at a publishing house in the UK Is offering un-agented members an opportunity: Submit a middle grade or YA manuscript by January 31st, 2024, and the editor will consider it.

MONSTER DOWN DEEP is mostly done, but it needs a full edit and polish. I still haven’t hired an expert much less gotten any feedback. The timing is crap. But no one tells you in advance which opportunity is going to pay off. How can I let this one go by? So I rush to finish the book as best as I can. A day before the deadline, I submit the manuscript.

I send the product of a year of work, angst and tears to someone I don’t know or trust, but who I’m  handing the power to judge me and my work. It’s someone who might reject me based on my talent or maybe her bad day and I’ll have no way of knowing which it is. If a bird poops on her head the morning she reads my submission, it’s going to be a shitty day for me, too.

This is the job.

But on the other hand…

Dream job is not one word.

And the word dream is a part of it for a reason. There’s also a reason it’s not called a Job Dream.

Dream comes first, maybe so we don’t forget that part of it. So we come back to it and allow ourselves to experience it even at the worst times. When I send off the manuscript, I have to put it out of my mind. But first I give myself a tiny moment to dream.

What if the answer is yes?

What if this manuscript becomes a book?

What if someone wants what I’ve created?

And then I get back to work.