Music to Self-Publish By

I was stuck at a stoplight, I remember that much. Somewhere in Princeton, I think, not that it matters. I took my phone out of my pocket and reflexively checked my e-mail.

It was a rejection letter. That’s not such a big deal; I have a large collection of those. But this was a rejection from an agent who’d asked for the full manuscript, and then turned me down with a form rejection – someone that I’d spent a lot of mental energy on in wishing and hoping that she would say “yes,” at long last.

It didn’t happen. What did happen was that this song came on the radio:

The pivotal phrase here, in my view, is: I am done with my graceless heart / tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart. I think that’s exactly what I did when I finally decided that traditional publishing wasn’t going to happen for me – it was like cutting my heart out and starting over again.

What follows here is kind of, if you will, a soundtrack of self-publishing – just a few songs that sort of illustrate what it’s been like for me, personally, in dealing with the decision to self-publish.

First, I kind of think that anyone who’s been through the mill of trying unsuccessfully to get an agent has to relate to Beck:

I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.

It’s natural to feel that way, especially if you’ve been swimming upstream in Rejection River for a year or more. But rejection doesn’t make you, or your book, a loser. Only you can do that.

I think this one is a lot more to-the-point. I identify with the Boxer here like you would not believe. I remember every scar of every rejection and every slight. I carry them with me. But they aren’t important, any more than anger is important or pain is important. Sure, you feel anger, and you feel pain, but the important thing is that you remain, in the center of the ring, and keep punching, because you’re the Boxer and that’s what you’re here for.

And more than that, you don’t give up. You just don’t. You keep plugging away.

And then, you have to hold on. I am not saying anything profound here, really, because it’s not a really profound settlement. You have to wait for good things to happen sometimes, and in between, you have to hold on to whatever it is that you hold on to. (I have a cushy blue pillow, but you probably didn’t need to know that.

And then, you go back to writing the book everyday. (I am struggling with this one myself right at the moment.)

If these songs help you out or inspire you, great. If you have others to share, do so in the comments.

[SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION ALERT: My book, RAIN ON YOUR WEDDING DAY, comes out March 1.]