Gena Showalter's Weblog

The wonderful Jaci Burton did it. The fabulous Diana Peterfreund did it. I decided to do it, too. So here's my "instant success" story:

When I first graduated high school, I gave college a try. I dropped in the middle of the semester. I was newly married, and well…A few years later, I tried again (phlebotomy). This time, I lasted a little longer and held out for a few semesters. Midway, I decided to go for lab tech. Then I dropped again. My problem was that I couldn’t decide on a major. Nothing sounded right for me. A few years later, I tried yet again. My grades were good (a miracle for sure!) and I managed to score a coveted spot in the nursing program. I was miserable.

After two semesters (I think it was) I told my husband I did not want to be a nurse. So, for the third time I left school not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. I did some soul searching. I loved romance novels. I loved writing. After all, I was the girl everyone paid in high school to write their research papers. Why not? I thought. I’d give it a try. Sounded fun.

I did a little research and discovered that it took most writers 4 – 7 years to publish their first book. I talked it over with my husband and decided to give myself two years. (That’s if I could last that long. I mean, please. Look at my previous track record). Meanwhile, I did work a part time job and had two young babies.

I wrote a book titled Heaven’s Fury (it was awful, just awful, but at the time I thought it was golden). It was a mix of practically every genre you can image, a blend of everything I’d ever read. I queried every agent I could find and garnered only small interest. In the end, everyone turned me down. Not having done my homework on the market, I also sent a query to Harlequin American, the first publisher address I could find on the Web. Of course, they also rejected me. Who knew they wouldn’t want a book with futuristic elements?

Little Gena did not like being rejected, so I finally did my homework on who publishers were and what they wanted. I decided to give category romances a try and wrote a short contemporary called Teach Me Tonight. (I still like this book, by the way). I could tell it was better than my first book, and began to see some of the things I’d done wrong the first time around. I queried agents and actually received some requests for partials and fulls. Ultimately, though, they all rejected me. I then sent the book to Kensington, who was doing the Precious Gems line. The editor told me “you almost had me with this one but…”. I was ecstatic and heartbroken at the same time.

I wrote another book, The Touch of Her Man. Sent queries. Got rejected. In all honestly, the book was worse than my very first effort. Why? It was my desperate attempt to give the publishers what I thought they wanted. It was not written from the heart. I sent it to an editor with Harlequin Temptation. She hated, hated, hated it. I got the harshest rejection of my life, but it taught me some things. And yes, I learned I preferred harsh rejections to form rejections. At least I knew why. But the book was unfixable. Still is.

I decided then that I was writing in the wrong genre and next tried to write a historical. This book was my best yet. The heroine was an Amazon warrior -- I might rework this baby one day. I wrote from the heart this time, but I still didn’t get any takers. My dream agent (the agent I later ended up with) passed on it. What was I doing wrong? Why did no one want to take a chance on me?

I wasn’t giving up, though. Next I wrote a fun contemporary called Unleashing the Tigress Within. That book really spoke to me, and I knew I was on the right track. I even had one publisher nibble and almost bite. Oh, the hope. Oh, the heartbreak. In the end, the editor passed. I wanted to sell so badly!

When I sat down to write my next book, two years had almost passed. Now remember, I had told my husband to give me two years to publish and if I didn’t then I’d find a full time job or go back to school. But I was so close. I knew I was. I wrote that 6th book, called The Love Slave. The proposal was solid, and I knew it, so I entered it in some contests before I finished it. It won a few, lost a few.

At that point, I was forced to take some time off. I started having severe heart problems that eventually put me in the hospital. It took me a long time to recover. When I was able, I finished the book. I still had the dream of being published. I didn’t hold myself back with The Love Slave. I didn’t think about rules and pleasing other people. I just let myself write the story the way it needed to be written. That book won me an agent, Deidre Knight. My dream agent.

She almost sold it right after I signed with her, but the publisher ultimately decided not to buy it for reasons I won’t get into. Once again, I was devastated. Utterly heartbroken. Wanted to die. My agent told me to write her another book. I didn't want to, at first, but I did. That book was The Stone Prince. We shopped it around and had no interest. I wanted interest, damn it, so I started writing another book called, Mia Snow, Alien Huntress. A book that would later be known as Awaken Me Darkly.

While I wrote MSAH, Harlequin decided to launch HQN, their single title line. They wanted another author of Deidre’s, but that author wasn’t available. Deidre told them they should read me, I was exactly what they needed. Tracy Farrell read The Stone Prince and made an offer almost right away. And guess what? She also bought The Love Slave, now titled The Pleasure Slave. Oh, and she eventually bought Unleashing the Tigress Within, now titled Animal Instincts.

Can I just tell you that two years passed from the time Deidre signed me to the time the offer came in? Four years total. I could have given up after any one of those rejections. I wanted to, but I didn't. I kept writing and now I'm so glad I did!

There it is. My story. Any mistakes are all Jill Monroe's fault and not a faulty memory.

Make sure you check out Jill Monroe’s blog. She’ll be posting her road to publication story soon.

Posted by Gena Showalter at 5:53 PM    

Labels: writing