Sometimes You Fail. And it Sucks.

Thank you so much for this post, and thank you for caring so much. I’ve been where Alexis is and understand that feeling of sadness and – I guess confusion would be the best word – that accompany that failure-to-launch scenario.

Here’s what we authors can tell you:

1. Because you still believe in us and in the work that isn’t selling, we don’t feel like a failure.

2. Because you share our hurt, we don’t hurt quite as much.

3. Because you give us plausible options and total support for future projects, our disappointment is not overwhelming.

Thank you, Rachelle. More than words can say.

Did she decide to self-publish instead? Would that be a good alternative?

Failure may not be the end of Alexis’ story. Consider this:

In 1991 I wrote a book. I managed to find an agent. I wrote a second and third book. None of them sold, and eventually the agent and I parted company.

I meant to keep writing, but I had a job that didn’t make that easy. And i was lazy. That first book, and its sisters, sat for 16 years, forgotten for the most part, in a corner of my hard drive. From time to time I would dust them off with the intention of starting the search for a publisher again, but other things got in the way.

Then I picked up the third book again about six years ago. Rewrote the whole thing, polished it, and edited it again. At least five more times. Then I set out to find an agent. That took the better part of a year and half, but it finally happened. I landed an agent. And a damn good agent from one of the most respected agencies in the business. I thought it would finally happen. I was going to sell a book this time.

Two years passed with no luck. I sensed my agent was losing faith in the book, so I set out to overhaul the other two books I’d written back in the early ’90s, just as I had with the novel that landed me my agent. It was a long hard slog. Painful. But in the end I felt I’d truly made the books better. My agent loved them. He had a radical suggestion to transform them, though, to make them more marketable. But I was too tired and lazy to pick them up again, so we decided to submit them as they were. A year of positive rejections later, I took my agent’s advice and did the rewrite, changing my hero to a heroine. That was a ton of work, not simply switching the subject pronouns.

Another year and half passed, and I was about to accept my failure and move on. But suddenly my 20-year odyssey ended. That first book — the one I wrote in 1991 — sold to a great editor. And the joy I felt (and still feel every day) was all the sweeter for the travails of my journey.

I found success when it was time, not a day sooner.

And in truth, the game is never over until you stop playing.

Good luck, Alexis. I’ll look for your memoir somewhere down the road, when it’s time.

This is a platitude, I know, but it’s still true:

You can’t fail if you don’t try.

Failure always hurts. It doesn’t matter if it’s a small failure or a large one. But failure is only the end of the road if you allow it to be.

I read these posts and am inspired by how many people here are not willing to let “failure” stop them. Goals may have to be adjusted, but as many have said, you only fail when you give up entirely.

I love all these stories, starting with Rachelle’s and Alexis’. Frankly, I thought agents sold everything they shopped! How naive! I have a similar story. I revised my first finished novel a dozen times, thought it was pretty darn good, and shopped it around. Received one rejection with comments and a request for a full. Started a second novel while waiting to hear on the full. Finally got a response – not as good as I’d hoped, lacks the ‘Wow’ factor, here’s a few suggestion….So kind…but hard to hear. I went into mourning for a month. Then I picked myself up and said, ‘Next?’ I didn’t understand the comments, so I went on an odyssey to figure them out. Got help from a published author friend, craft books, favorite novels. Spent much time in prayer. The novel that is emerging is MUCH better than the last. I needed that failure! And I’m grateful that I received those rejections. I’ll try to remember this when I receive future rejections.

As you know, I get this. Don’t really know what to say except I know from experience that you give it your all. And maybe, just maybe, God has to humble the really awesome people every now and again to keep them grounded. Hugs!

Rachelle, I appreciate hearing your side of this story. And my heart goes out to Alexis. I have been there. I am still there. Sometimes I think this is all there is for me, pouring my soul into book after book only to almost make it. Almost, but no contract.

I’ve had two wonderful agents. The first moved on to other pursuits. I parted ways with the second for reasons too complicated to explain here. But I remember the phone calls from him and hearing the discouragement in his voice. I know he felt the frustration as much as I did, and I’m so grateful that he helped me bear that burden. At the time I was too focused on my own misery to think about what it meant for him. Selfish, I know. That’s why I’m glad you shared this.

Sometimes I think the writing journey is really the excruciating process of lifting our eyes outward to see the real world.

I suppose that your reaction is the sign of being a good agent. You care enough about the authors you represent that you share their hurt when their projects don’t succeed. If you didn’t invest so much (personally and professionally) into the project, it wouldn’t hurt so much when it didn’t work out. I’m sorry to hear about your discouragement, though, and I’m sure it must be devastating for Alexis. Good luck to you both.

Wrote a book in the late 80s. Instantly got an agent. He “almost” sold it. Then the agent sent it back. Wrote another book. Got a famous agent. A year late she sent it back. Wrote another book. Got a really famous agent. A year later it came back. Took time off to raise a son. Wrote another book. Couldn’t find an agent. Wrote ANOTHER book. This time I decided to target the right agent for me–not just “a well known agent.” She shopped it for two years. About two weeks before I decided to yank it and publish it myself, she sold it to a fine publisher.

I am so grateful that she had faith in me enough to keep on for a year longer than any of the others.

It doesn’t always happen–but it can. I’ve known something about failure, and it always feels bad. But perseverance can pay off.

There are only two kinds of people in this world, I’d say. There are those of us who’ve failed at something important, and there are the others who’ve never tried anything worth doing.

Sure, I’ve failed. I fail all the time. I failed at something important yesterday, in fact.

Thank God for my failures, because they’re my teachers in life.

- TOSK

Great post. I took stock and realize my average fail rate is about 49%. This may sound bad until I view the success side of the equation. Sometimes our failures take center stage as you pointed out so well. Think of the successes. Thanks again. – John

I’m disappointed too. I read the Alexis travel blog post way back and have always looked forward to reading the full memoir. If she decides to self-publish in print or e-book, I’ll be at the front of the line to get my copy.

Thanks for this article Rachelle – it did enlighten me somewhat! I am surprised Alexis book wasn’t picked up – such a shame. I have lived in Africa all my life and worked in the tourism industry before I retired. Thousands of people backpack through Africa every year – to my knowledge, not so many Americans. They’re mostly Brits, and from European countries. It seems a book like Alexis would have been a great asset to future backpackers.

Thanks Rachelle. The post helped me to keep in mind that failure is defined only by quitting. And from reading this post, Alexis will succeed because she refuses to quit. I will read the book that these publishers refused to represent. More than likely, it will be another success story for Alexis. Keep pressing forward Alexis. This trial is only making you stronger.