SAILING OUT OF DARKNESS Sold (Finally)
Perhaps the manuscript’s saga will encourage you to hang on and believe in your dreams, too.
Picture a sailboat and a sailor and years from there to here. During that more-than-a-decade, we ventured forth on oceans and seas, living a life that changed us both. The photo below captures a moment in time, just before a storm slammed us as we crossed toward the Baja Penninsula. Mere hours later, the Sea of Cortez kicked up a mess, and Sea Venture tossed her nose about in nasty waves during a particularly unpleasant night. (And the bow planking went walkabout. I wonder where the pieces landed. Still, I digress.)
The journey from the story’s conception to this latest publishing contract spanned years (and years and years). I began writing Sailing out of Darkness long before we set sail, when my only boat was a small sharpie and my sailing territory very close to home. My first agent helped me craft its ending and worked with me until I understood exactly what she meant. She taught me quite a lot, and I’m grateful.
But she couldn’t sell it. Nor could she sell the next one.
So, I wrote two more stories as we sailed from California and down into Mexican waters. Occasionally, I took this old story out and dusted it off, rewriting bits and pieces, twisting it and turning it, adding poems, chopping poems, giving it a facelift as I changed point of view characters. Readers came and went, some giving good advice, some not.
In the middle of the voyage, I changed agents, signing with Terry Burns of Hartline Literary Agency. I became his assistant (lovely Internet) and worked from my waterborne home. He began to submit my stories here and there. And then there and here.
Poor Terry. I’m probably the most frustrating of his authors, because whenever a rejection letter came from an editor, I rewrote–again–tweaking and tossing until the stories barely resembled the ones I’d first submitted. There were times when he didn’t know if we were coming or going. I can picture him, squinting at my emails from under his big Stetson, calling to his wife, Saundra, “She’s doing it again. Gotta sit on that gal.”
About a year ago, I pulled Sailing out of Darkness from the recesses of my hard drive and realized that the entire mid-section needed bariatric surgery. So, slice, dice, and a lot of ouch.
It was painful, and recovery took months. But the new and revised story felt right. Instead of all that fat from overindulgence as I tried to explain away my protagonist’s misdeeds, the slimmer story starts with her wake-up call.
I guess the editorial board at WhiteFire Publishing agreed enough to offer a contract.
(Here’s a picture more relevant to the story as we sail before a storm, en route home.)
In my role as editor for Wayside Press, I discuss how important craft is. Just as I studied with brilliant artists and teachers to hone my skills as a sculptor, so I’ve studied the writing craft and submitted myself and my words to red-pen professionals. I’ve written and rewritten until my eyes crossed. I’ve puzzled over rejection letter after rejection letter. But you know what? I’m glad the contracts waited until now. When I look back at those earlier versions of my work, I thank God for making me wait.
Perhaps you’ve a journey that makes you sigh or weep or wonder if you’ve been left behind. Maybe your journey has nothing to do with writing, but instead involves another dream, something you long to achieve. You haven’t yet found that yes waiting in your Inbox or received that promotion at work or taken that trip. Or found that mate.
I’d love to hear from you. What are your dreams? Where are you on the path?
Please leave a comment, and let’s encourage each other.
It’s a great way to look at it–as painful as it was (is) to be rejected, I’d also hate to have the old versions of my work out there, now that I’ve seen what it can (has already) become.
In the interest of sharing, I’m getting quite close to submitting again (weeks not months). Fingers crossed! Congrats to you, Normandie! Thanks for sharing your journey!
I am so excited for your recent success! Congratulations, Normandie–I so look forward to sharing your sea journey.
I am in the middle of exactly what you have done–rewriting an improved version of my WIP. My heart rejected the first draft even before I summoned enough courage to send anywhere else. But I understand the tears and frustration. This week, the last piece clicked and while I work with that, your words and journey will inspire me to forge on .
Denise, thank you. As I mentioned to David, my head didn’t know enough to reject my earlier drafts (I don’t count the first or second–those are just place savers for words), but rejections mean something. They may mean we just didn’t find the right publisher yet. But in the case of moi-the-editor, I always assume that it just wasn’t quite there. And, of course, the editor in me loves to tweak.
Vaughn, how lovely to be so close to submissions. And perhaps your wait will be much shorter than mine. I mean, some people sell right away. They must be the pure at heart. Or better writers!
So happy to hear your good news, Normandie. Thank you for sharing your journey and your wisdom. It’s an encouragement to me as I struggle to hone my craft. I’m learning so much from my new favorite friend/editor. This road to publication is much easier–and faster–when traveled with good friends.
Often we’re required to tell our stories to ourselves a hundred different ways. It’s through that retelling, a great story emerges to share with others. Heartiest congratulations on both deals!
Thank you, my dear Molly. You’re such an encourager. May you be blessed and touched as you overcome in this next journey.
You mean, Robin, in spite of the red ink? Friends who encourage and believe in us make all the difference, don’t they? I know you have struggled with the same things I did/do–the need to write the stories in our heart, whether or not these are the ones that sell easily. And someday, somewhere, someone will see and take note. At least you didn’t have to wait until you were my age for the first note-taker to step forward!
Whatever the journey I’m sure a real craftsperson knows when that extra piece needs to come off Nero’s nose or the extra patch needs applying to Nelson’s eye. Inside I’m sure you know when it’s just right. I’m not approaching birth of an infant since mine is just cheery run of the mill stuff, but I know Sailing out of Darkness is the epitome of the artist. Knowing you’re happy with the end product means it’s good, No, better than good and a publisher has the same faith.
As the old stage ( not Wells Fargo ) analogy goes, Get out there and knock em’ dead.
I wish you the greatest luck witht the book, the boat and life in general Normandie. Hugs. xx
David, you are, as always, the charmer. You call your work run of the mill, but it’s a lot of fun to read–and isn’t that an art?
The problem with being happy with the product is that I thought I was happy with the earlier bits, too. No, I’m just glad none of these saw see the light of day in their second, third, or even sixth iteration, because I learned fiction long after I’d learned non-fiction and poetry. Those always flowed with ease. Novel-length stories took digging around in the process. And as an editor whose early job was to pare the non-essentials from technical and other non-fiction books, this has been a whole new adventure. Frankly, for a while there (a long while) I thought the process and adventure would just be for my own enjoyment.
Still, once these hit the light of day, I’m going to want to hide and never, ever look at a review.
The early part of your journey sounds a lot like mine. I’m still writing and rewriting, still charting a course toward my destination. It’s always gratifying to hear the stories of other writers who have found their way to safe harbor. Congratulations to you. I hope to follow in your wake!
Deborah, I’m looking forward to reading more of yours. You know that. The lovely thing about a wake is that it will clear the waves out of your way as long as you stay tucked at just the right spot!
Looking forward to reading it, Normandie! Love your post.
Mary, thank you. I hope you’ll enjoy it and Becalmed. Very different stories, but both involve boats. (Of course.)
Inspiring post! I love reading stories like yours because they fill me with hope. While I’m happy for the twenty-somethings who end up with a publishing deal, after submitting a handful of query letters for their first novel, your journey reminds me not to give up.
Yes, well, Rhiann, here I am, greying by the minute. I may have started as a twenty-something, but I’m ending as a…oh, that’s right. I’m not ending, merely beginning anew!
**congratulations** and **happy beagle dances** for you! 🙂
Lovely post, Normadie. You know I’ve had my struggles recently. This is a very encouraging post, (and your timely advice was, too.) I appreciate your knowledge and kind words–quite fortifying!.
Thank you, Dee. I’m praying for good things for your stories. They tell the truth, which we need.
Thank you, Jane, for all your years of being an incredible critique partner. This is where you started, isn’t it?
Critiquing is fun. It challenges us to grow and change, and you’ve helped me so much.
Excellent article, Normandie, and perfect timing. Thanks for the encouragement! (And I LOVE your pictures!)
Marji, thank you for stopping by and leaving your own bit of encouragement. I’m glad to know the timing helped. There seems to be a perfect moment for all things, doesn’t there?
Your writing journey reminds me of Psalm 127:1 Unless the LORD builds the house, They labor in vain who build it. And when it’s been tweaked to His standards, viola! Congratulations on the contract!
Thank you, Cuffe sisters!
Excellent post, Normandie. Beautifully written. Yes, in addition to the mss that have made it into print, I have one like yours that keeps getting reworked every year or two. Maybe someday…. Thanks for the encouragement that it may find its way into publication.
Donn, I love your stories. And, although I didn’t mention it here, I am now rewriting another story, one that garnered my first award back in 1994, but that is in dire need of revamping. It’s a completely different sort from these other works, so I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with it, but I had fun writing it in the early nineties and recently found the old floppy on which it lodged.
Whether or not anything comes of these, we’re having fun, aren’t we? And you and I both have issues in our life that make us love the one thing (our characters, our story) over which we have a bit of control.