Category: books

If you’ve ever searched for a literary agent, you know it’s not just a process—it’s a rollercoaster. Not the fun kind with loops and candy at the end, but the kind that makes your heart drop into your stomach repeatedly.

It all starts with hope. You’ve spent months—sometimes years—pouring your heart into your manuscript. You’ve labored over every sentence, fallen in love with your characters, and rewritten entire chapters because they just didn’t feel right. When you finally decide it’s ready, you send it out like a little paper boat into a vast, stormy ocean.

Then the replies start coming in. Or sometimes, they don’t come at all.

When an agent says “no,” it’s never personal. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But deep down, it feels personal. Your book isn’t just words on paper; it’s a part of you. Your late nights, early mornings, stolen lunch breaks, moments of doubt, and joy are all embedded within those pages. Each rejection chips away at your confidence, like tiny cracks in glass. You begin to wonder: Am I good enough?

But here’s the thing no one tells you at first: rejection can be a gift. (Yes, it stings to even read that.)

Each time someone says “not for me,” you have two choices. You can close the document, put your manuscript in a metaphorical drawer, and let the dust gather. Or you can use that sting to sharpen your edges. You can take a long, hard look at your story and ask yourself, What can I do better? Maybe it’s tightening your opening pages, sharpening your plot hook, or giving your characters more depth.

Somewhere along the way, you realize it’s not just about getting an agent; it’s about becoming the kind of writer who deserves one.

Finding a literary agent is hard—really hard. But every “no” brings you a step closer to the “yes” you’ve been dreaming of. When that day finally arrives, all those tiny cracks in your confidence will transform into a mosaic that reflects the writer you’ve become—resilient, determined, and better than you ever thought you could be.

So keep going. Send the queries. Collect the rejections. Rewrite until your fingers ache. Because the only true failure in this journey is giving up before the right person discovers your words.