Searching for answers and being told no.

“If anything, it’s given me thicker skin. And that’s something I needed!”

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve said that sentence in the last few months. It is a truthful statement, and I will say it with a smile.  

But anyone I say that to, probably has no clue how much exhaustion and frustration I am fighting internally.

If we haven’t met yet, let me back up. Hi! My name is Jordan. And in December of 2021, I finished writing my first novel. I edited and rewrote it for a few months after that and since April of 2022, I’ve been trying to get it published traditionally, with a big publishing house.

And let me tell you: when someone says, “publishing is like running a marathon”, they’re being truthful, too. I just might suggest that they add “brutal, uphill” in front of the word marathon, and “in the rain, with only one shoe on and only your weaker contact lens in”, after the word marathon.

Which would definitely be a run-on sentence.

But to each their own.

Anyways.

My point is, this process has been hard. There have been many weeks where 5 or 6 days out of 7, I open my inbox to find multiple literary agents rejecting me. At times, I’ve sat with my fingers crossed, knowing my book was in an agent’s maybe pile. Only to be told months later that my writing is good, my premise is promising, but ultimately, they aren’t the right person to represent it or me. I’ve been told that I didn’t develop a character well enough, after an agent had only seen five pages. And I’ve handed over my full manuscript, thinking this pitching process was finally over, only to be told no again.

Let me be clear in saying that I know my situation is not unique. This is typical when you’re querying (pitching) literary agents. But that doesn’t always change the fact that all the red on my spreadsheet tracking everything can easily get a girl down.

In full transparency, I have looked at my friends who have had success post-grad, whatever that looks like for them, and I’ve felt like crap about myself. While I’m saying yes to dog sitting, editing essays for people, or hoping anyone finds my Fiverr freelancing gigs (which, shameless plug, those are linked on my Contact page), my internal voice has told me I’ve done something wrong. While I’m pitching my first book for the 110th time and writing my second, I’ve doubted many times if I’m good enough for this.

But I also know that I am blessed to be cheered on and supported by lots of people. I am so grateful for any family member or friend whom I shared parts of my book with, who then took time to actually read it and give me feedback and encouragement. This has been the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever done. So, to anyone who has stood by me through it, been a reader, or just a shoulder to cry on when I’ve gotten what felt like my 1000th no, you should know how much I appreciate you.

When I jumped into writing my book, I somewhat unintentionally stopped blogging. I was brand new to this book writing and publishing world, so something I used to do fairly regularly took a backseat. But I recently realized how much I missed blogging. So, welcome to my rebrand! (That just sounded cool. Had to say it.) I realized that I missed it because writing in a space like this one, has often been a way I process whatever is happening in my life.

And frankly, the past two years have not been what I expected. I have been humbled in a lot of ways. For one, everything that has gone into trying to be an author. And secondly, I have been battling some of the most frustrating health issues I have ever faced. Keeping the details private, I have been riddled with physical pain unrelated to my CP, that has honestly controlled me more than any other pain I’ve dealt with. I’ve sat across from doctors who acknowledge something is wrong, but they aren’t always sure how to help. My family and I are on a confusing road right now, trying to decode what is happening.

To put it simply, in these past few years, I have felt like I’m either begging for answers that nobody seems to have or being told no.

Though, that is not to discount all the joy I have experienced throughout all of this. I have lived with and near family for this time and especially knowing that is likely changing soon, I can’t help but smile at how sweet it has been. I have a puppy who keeps me laughing daily, a home gym that allows me to keep CP in its place, I almost always have a book to read in my hands, and I have friends who don’t let distance cause us to lose touch. Just to name a few sources of my joy.

But even with all that, my brain has not stopped saying in the background: I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know what I’m doing, I feel like I’m failing.

It’s easy for me to sit in that and just be discouraged. And I’ve done my fair share. Trust me.

But.

If anything, these past few years as a whole, have given me thicker skin. And as someone who is a people-pleaser, that’s something I needed.

In the confusion, I’ve found freedom within these things: I’m never going to please everyone. And I won’t be able to control everything in my life, no matter how much I want to at times. My story was made for me, even though it may not look like I thought it would. And hope can be found in the most unexpected of situations.

I’m so thankful for anyone who reads my words, please know that. I promise that this novel I’ve talked about vaguely for two years exists. I’m exploring all my options, and I will get it out there, one way or another. To anyone waiting on it, thank you for supporting me. I don’t feel like I deserve as many people as I have behind me, cheering me on in chasing my dream. Y’all rock. Seriously.

Despite the mess, there’s a lot of joy in being a confused twenty-something.

Happy to be back on a small corner of the internet, doing my best to process and walk in it.