Big News (No, Really)

ICYMI, a series of letters I learned just last week means "in case you missed it," I had a serious announcement this weekend:

I finally signed with a literary agent, namely Dawn Frederick of Red Sofa. In fact, I just sent off the contract to the last person who needs to John Hancock it up.

It's for my humor writing, and it's with my writing partner Mike MacDonald (who founded The Smew, the satire news site I wrote for and eventually helped edit a few years back). In a total bonus move, though, Dawn also represents Young Adult, at least if you're already her client (and may eventually regret telling me that).

You see a lot of these blog posts--the "it's finally my agent soul mate, and in the end, it happened so fast!" posts--but that's kind of how it was. I sent in a query on a Tuesday morning, Dawn got back to me within the hour requesting materials, and by the end of the work day, we were setting up a Skype chat for Thursday night. We chatted about all kinds of book-related things, and life-related things, and while I am 100% sold on Dawn's expertise and her track record, the thing that made it feel so right was her personality (cynical and mordant, practically a pre-requisite for getting along with me) and her enthusiasm. She GOT this book. She loves it. What more could you ask for?

So enough gloating. I'm feeling super-effing-lucky, and it was a fairytale in the end, and dreams come true, sometimes even before you turn 30 (just barely), blah-blah-blah.

The happiest of endings...

But I want to put something out there that I think people don't say enough, and that, as a writer who's still in the middle of the endless-rejections-from-agents phase of your career, you need to hear:

It only happens "overnight" after a LONG slog of nothing happening.

How do you Deal with Failure?

I have a confession that is painfully evident to anyone who knows me: I'm a perfectionist. I like things to be a certain way, I get very hung up on the details, and I believe--deeply--that there is usually a "right" way to do things.

Maybe not in life (or in my house cleaning), but certainly in work. Whether you're building artisanal cheese boards or working as an accountant, do it well. Don't be sloppy. Check, then check again.

This even applies to my text messages and gchats. Usually I double check and copy-edit them...

...and when I hit send too fast and miss something, I follow up with a "sic" to whomever I'm corresponding with. Because I hate the idea that they think I'm sloppy THAT MUCH. (No, I'm not kidding about this.)

I think this is my factory setting, but I also think the drive towards perfectionism was reinforced by rewards. Growing up, I was bright, but if I was also anal-retentive, I could be the best. I could get a perfect score on every test and paper, get the right grades, get into the right college, and generally attain all the rubber-stamps of approval I could want because I was, in my dad's words, "disciplined." Obviously this character trait had serious downsides--like several years of "eating" diet coke for lunch--but by the time they started showing up, it was too late. I was stuck on this track, and why, really, would I want to get off of it?

So I must be a masochist.