The Agent and the Author of Life

My heart pounded with force.  My binder in my clammy hands. The story within, my baby. I had worked hours, months, years to perfect it. Staring at me was my first opportunity.  A best selling author, a client of the agent in front of me, said she liked my book and I had done an excellent job pitching it to her.  She said, "Tell him I think you have a good story." Now, I had to remember her name.  Remember to mention her.

 I sat down clutching my one sheet.  I had only heard of a one sheet the day before. So many new things to learn and yet I was given the chance to talk to this agent when so many others had tried for years and hadn't been as lucky. On the outside I looked cool and collected.  Inside my thoughts were a jumbled mess. Uncertain what to say as he stared at me, I forgot the author, his client. I handed him the one sheet. To my untrained eyes it was good.

From the beginning he was confused. "So this is non-fiction."

"No, fiction."

He began to critique my one sheet. Add Fiction, Add genre: Women's Fiction, Add word count, Add finished manuscript. My heart sank. I had failed my chance with this top literary agent. He looked at me.

"What are you looking for from this meeting?"

Um, uh, what did I want from the meeting? To be discovered. For him to fall in love with my story and become my agent.

"Well, I would love to make this a career, but if I have things to improve then I would like to know."

After hearing the quick synopsis, he decided I had a story without an ending. I disagreed internally and still do.  I had not done a good job revealing the story to him.  The next 10 minutes of my 15 minute meeting turned into me listening to him talk about a movie with a bad ending. 

I felt the empty pit in my stomach. This was not the way I thought the meeting was going to go. He asked to look at my manuscript. Alright, here we go. Now, he will see what a great story I have.

 I handed it to him. He looked it over. I couldn't read him, but I knew he had to like it.

"Yeah, there is still work to be done. It needs to be tightened up. Less telling and more showing."

I forced a smile.  He wasn't interested. What? But to be honest, I knew he was right.  I had added too much trying to meet the expectations of what I thought I needed to do rather than writing my way.

I shook his hand, "Thank you."

"Good luck."

I felt defeated. My acting skills came in handy as I appeared to walk away confidently. My spirit was broken. My skin wasn't tough enough.  I couldn't go through another rejection. I couldn't handle it. I would not be so vulnerable again. My story would be for me, now.  No one else needed to read it.  I was not good enough. For an introvert and a perfectionist, this was my biggest fear. Rejection.

The only place I could go to find comfort was in prayer.

"God, give me clarity. Make my day better tomorrow. I don't want today to overshadow the rest of the writing conference. "

I fell asleep the moment the prayer ended.

I woke up with new insight. Instead of defeat, I felt victory. I would fix my manuscript. I would listen to the positive criticism and turn my novel into an even better novel.  Right  now it was mediocre, but soon it would be powerful. The rest of the week was incredible.  I had been humbled. I had no expectations and took in every moment with joy. Another best selling author liked my book idea, a different agent wanted me to send my manuscript to her company, I meet incredible people. I learned many of the published authors at the conference had the same kind of experience with the first agent they meet.

Wow, God leading me to the mountains of North Carolina for my first writing conference was in His perfect plans. I learned I have a good story waiting to be great. God arranged a divine appointment with an agent that broke my heart, but taught me so much. That appointment changed me. But the most important appointment of the week was with God in my hotel room, broken and vulnerable. The Author of Life, God will direct me on a unforgettable journey.