Since The Positive Portions Food & Fitness Journal came out last year, I’ve had many budding authors (or friends of budding authors) ask me how I got published. I wish I had a magic formula to share but all I have is the story of how I stumbled my way into published authordom. Here’s the first of two parts on how my book came to be.
Call me the Forrest Gump of published authors.
In the 1994 movie, Oscar winner Tom Hanks plays a man bumbling through life, unwittingly meeting historical figures, influencing popular culture, and experiencing first-hand historical incidents.
My road to becoming a published author was kind of like that.
In 2003, I embarked on a wellness program that involved writing down my food, which I did in various journals, notebooks, and Post-It notes. As you can imagine, over time I accumulated quite a pile. At the same time, I started reading daily reflection books every morning to center me for the day ahead. I thought it would be great to have a book that combined both—a place for me to keep my food organized as well as provide a daily dose of inspiration.
So I started searching for one. Although I found lots of meditation books and food diaries, I didn’t find one that combined both.
So I figured I’d write it.
Mama always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”
Fast forward a few years and many, many, many drafts later, and I now had a finished manuscript. I’d written a book. I just needed to get it published. The problem was I had no clue as to how to do that. None.
Google is a wonderful thing. From many internet searches, I learned that it’s ideal for authors to have agents because agents have connections to publishing houses and can help negotiate contracts. Sounded good to me.
Again, I harnessed the power of Google and found lists of agents accepting submissions. I sent them beautifully written emails. I shared how my book was different than anything on the market. I explained that people needed my book. I assured them it would be a bestseller.
The rejection emails were remarkably polite.
The agents (well, okay, mostly their auto replies) regretfully informed me that my book—although intriguing—wasn’t a fit and wished me the very best of luck in my search for my book’s perfect home.
Okay, so the agent thing didn’t work out. That left me with contacting publishers directly. No problem.
Lieutenant Dan: Have you found Jesus yet, Gump?
Forrest Gump: I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking for him, sir.
One afternoon I walked into my local bookstore with a spiral notebook in hand. My goal (again, learned via Google) was to discover publishers in my book’s genre, which I figured would be a combination of Diet, Spirituality and Self-Help. I went into those sections and opened up books, found out who published them and wrote down the names in my notebook. Then I went home and looked up the publisher on the internet.
Most publishing houses have tabs on their websites called “Submission Guidelines,” which tells budding authors how to send in ideas for new books. I sent queries to every publishing house I could.
The rejection letters were remarkably polite.
The [Publisher’s Name] thanked me for my submission but regretfully informed me that my book—although intriguing—wasn’t a candidate for publication at this time. They also wished me the very best of luck in my search for my book’s perfect home.
Mama always had a way of explaining things so I could understand them.
So what was I doing when all this rejection was going on? Was I flying into fits of rage? Gnashing my teeth in fits of existential despair, doubting my talent as an author, questioning my right to even exist?
Hell no. I called my mom.
“Mom,” I’d say. “I got another rejection.”
“Those people are idiots,” she’d say. “Screw ‘em.”
Then I’d get off the phone, put my latest rejection in a file I’d labeled “Foolish” (as in These people were very foolish to have rejected my book because it’s so awesome) and continued contacting publishing houses.
This went on for months. The pattern was the same: send query, get rejected, call Mom—I could have phoned it in.
Tune in to the next installment where I share the surprising discovery in Target that changed everything. Until then…
That’s all I have to say about that.
