Nevertheless She Persisted
In the spirit of wanting to be vulnerable and authentic in this space where it's easy to just let the best moments be the focus, I want to share a recent set-back and how I’m choosing to respond to it.
Last month, I completed a manuscript for a new book. It's a book about self-trust: how I learned to have it, and some strategies to help others have it, too.
Pretty quickly, a literary agent agreed to look at it. (Happy dance!)
And guess what: She liked it. (Happier dance!) She liked my writing. She liked my story. She liked the whole concept.
But (here's the droopy sad dance part): She wouldn't sign me on as a client because I don't yet have enough followers on Instagram.
I was thrown off-kilter. Over two decades, I've been focusing my energy on honing my craft so that I can tell a good story. And I've been focusing my energy into synthesizing my life experiences so that I can tell a story that's useful and helpful.
But it's no longer enough. Now, I also have to turn myself into an internet sensation, which I haven't been focusing on. Not remotely.
I actually like Instagram. I love the people I've met and the friendships I've made. I love how inspired I get by seeing what others are working on, working through, and sharing.
But Instagram is a small part of my life. I purposely keep it that way. And it really hadn't occurred to me that it would become a measure against which my craft and skill—my value as a writer—were measured.
I felt a bit like being told I wasn't popular enough.
And I spiraled a bit. For a few hours. I left myself feel shitty for a few hours.
And then I remembered the very thing I've just written a book about: I trust myself.
I trust my skills. I trust my story. I trust my persistence and endurance. I trust my courage and resilience. I trust my book will find its place. There are many more agents to query, many more options to pursue.
I'm persisting.
Whatever setbacks you're facing now, I hope you will persist, too. I hope you will trust yourself.