When a Publisher’s “Maybe Yes/Maybe No” Becomes a definite Answer

I mentioned that my fantasy novel, Frama-12, got a “maybe” from a publisher in my last post. The moment I received that encouraging email, I felt a sizzle of excitement in the air. Just maybe my “literary baby” would finally come into the world.

However, when the “maybe” die rolls across the table, the outcome could just as likely land on “rejection.”

With that unwelcome option hanging overhead, it’s easy to discount how far the story had already come in the submission process. At least one reader at a publishing house liked it, and that, in itself, deserved a metaphorical pat on the back.

Still, I’m a writer who has been rejected enough times to cringe whenever an email arrives from a publisher. I feel like a puppy expecting a slap on the snout with a rolled-up newspaper. I can’t help worrying that this might be the end of the road to publication.

Confession: I did that a lot with this particular submission. Every time I saw an email from the publisher, my heart rolled into my throat. My brain sent out stiff-upper-lip messages, preparing myself for the dreaded “Thanks but no thanks” message.

Does this happen to everybody, or just to me? You believe in your story and feel it’s worthy of publication. Still, you’re afraid to expect an acceptance because you don’t want to jinx it. Never mind that you’re not superstitious in any other aspect of your life. And never mind that you worked hard on the novel, loved the characters, polished the story, shared it with your critiquing group, and polished it some more. You catch yourself wondering, is it as good as I think it is?

Early this past Friday morning, I checked my email hoping for “no news is good news” because the three-week window for an answer hadn’t expired yet.

There it was. A note from the senior editor: “Congratulations! Attached is your contract for Frama-12 from The Wild Rose Press.”

My eyeballs were so ready to tell my brain to access “stoic mode” for an incoming rejection that they couldn’t fully comprehend that they saw a yes. My nervous system got all … well, nervous. The eyeball to brain conversation went like this:

Eyes: “Um. What am I looking at?”

Brain: “Whoa! I think it’s a yes!”

Eyes: “It can’t be.”

Brain: “I’m pretty sure that’s what ‘congratulations’ means.”

Eyes: “Nobody emails an acceptance letter. They call first.”

Brain: “For real, it looks like a win.”

Eyes: “Wait, what?”

The next thing I knew, I was pacing in front of the printer in the empty hallway at work. The contract pages slid through the rollers and into my hands, still warm. I paced and read it while mumbling, “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness.”

When the teacher I work with strolled up the hallway, he found me frozen in front of the printer. “You look like you’re standing in line,” he greeted.

“I’m freaking out right about now.” The instant I said it, I knew the remark made no sense. Frama-12 just got accepted. That’s a reason for celebration!

But it had to sink in first. What I’d hoped and dreamed for this story was finally coming true. My thoughts had to transition from the possibility of rejection to the reality of acceptance. That took a while. Fortunately, the more friends and family I told, the more real it felt.

To be honest, it still feels a little freaky. Consider: Frama-12 is book one of a trilogy. If my fantasy novel doesn’t gain traction, there will be no book two or book three. I can’t allow that to happen.

In other words, the journey has just begun, so …