Naïve and Overeager

If you peeked at my website even a little, you might assume I've not been published. That's not the case, but my experience isn't one that I brag about. Actually, for years I kept that information pretty quiet. I was embarrassed, and there were some who believed that people like me - well, those who seemingly "leaped" into publishing - deserved to be ruined. After all, we were impatient, careless, and now stained with the smear of failure. There was a small part of me that must have believed that or I wouldn't have reacted as I did. Now, I'll admit the truth: I had two books published in the early 2000's by a new up-and-coming publisher at the time.

For many years, I didn't want to talk about my experiences, but after some gentle coaxing from writer friends, I began to understand that I was a victim in this situation. Was I naïve and overly eager? Of course! Should I have done something differently? Probably so, but I'm not sure what that would have been at the time.

So, I've decided to share my experience publicly. Maybe it will finally eliminate the shame that wiggled its way into my thoughts and cast doubts about my own ability. There seems to be a feeling I have about my publishing experience that leaves me questioning my own worthiness as a writer. (Imposter syndrome, anyone?) Were my books any good? Or was I just the fool who signed on with the worst publisher in the history of the world? (Only small exaggeration there.) Either way, I've come to terms with it and would like to put it to rest once and for all. And I figure the best way to do that is to come clean to the world and blog about it. Maybe my writer friends were right and I'll help someone else by sharing my experiences. (What NOT to do!)

Before I dive headlong into my story, I will tell you now that it will be too much for one blog post. I'll share the whole story eventually but over several posts.

Being a published author was a dream that began in college. When I was younger, daydreaming and using my vivid imagination came easily to me, but not until my daughter was born, did I decide to get serious about writing a book. Young adult books were what I loved most, so I set about writing my own in 1997. I had an idea, but I did not have any creative writing classes in college nor did I belong to any professional organizations or writing groups. I'm not even sure I knew they existed. I was isolated in the writing world and lived in a very rural area in Pennsylvania, too.

When I finished the draft of the book, I did my own edits and felt that it was fairly clean of errors. My English degree may have assisted me in this step, but sometimes I think I relied too much on it instead of the advantages a set of fresh eyes would have given me - the value of a writer's group. I found a beta reader - a fellow college classmate - and completed revisions and edits. It was as good as I could make it, I thought. And that makes sense given my isolated writing world and general lack of knowledge of the publishing industry.

For those of you who don't remember the beginnings of the internet, 1998 still held a lot of limitations for people lucky enough to have it. Dial up wasn't convenient or efficient, but I still researched agents and editors and found several. I was really taking a shot in the dark. I made copies of my manuscript and snail mailed it, following the guidelines to a "T". The good news: I picked up an agent. The bad news: I didn't value him nearly enough.

Almost at the same time, I received a letter from a small POD (print on demand) publishing house that shall not be named. Although, if you research "worst book publishers," you'll get several sites that name this publisher at or near the top of its "writer beware" list.

Let me stop here for now and say that before you laugh at me too much, know that at this time, this publishing house was new. So doing any research on them or their reputation was fruitless. Only positive information was available, and they prided themselves on helping new, unpublished writers see their work in print. Hmmmm...

I should have recognized that first red flag.

To be continued...