matril: (Default)
matril ([personal profile] matril) wrote2010-07-02 09:29 am

The Five Stages of a Writer's Delusions of Grandeur

This is essentially the experience I've had, though I had at least enough presence of mind not to query an agent from the very first stages. If I had, however, this would be quite accurate. (Well, maybe I haven't quite settled into the final stage. I hope.)


1. You've written a book. Not just thought of writing it, or started to write it, but actually finished it. You feel that this is possibly one of the greatest achievments of all history, and since most of the people you interact with have never written a book themselves, they only serve to further this delusion. Your query letters, if you are deluded enough to write them at this terribly premature stage, look something like this:

Dear Agent,

I have written a book. That's right. An entire book. I'll pause a minute while you take that in. Done? All right, I know you're clamoring to see it, but since the offers will be pouring in, I'll need some time to decide which of you really deserves to peruse its wondrous pages. Again, it's an entire book. Not just the idea of one, not even the first few chapters, but a whole book. I'm giving you the chance to bask in its awesomeness. You're welcome.


2. After about five minutes of research, you realize that other people have written books. This is somewhat disconcerting, but you console yourself by going through a round of perfunctory editing. No one has ever thought to do that before, surely. Your letter to the agent is perhaps even jauntier than before:

Dear Agent,

I've written a book, and taken the time to polish it until it gleams like the sun. That's just a sneak peek at some of the scintillating imagery I employ in my writing. Hungry for more? I'll send you a copy of my freshly revised draft.


3. A little more research uncovers the alarming truth - all published writers do revisions. Multiple revisions. Perhaps you might not stand out as much as you imagined. But you simply shift your delusions in a new direction - your book is unique. Its premise was never even conceived of before it graced your brilliant mind.

Dear Agent,

Tired of the same old stories, over and over again? Never fear. My novel explores territory that has never been explored before. Characters are faced with moral quandries. My protagonist must endure conflicts with others, with nature, and even - prepare to have your mind blown - within himself. I know, it's so ground-breaking it might just change the face of literature.


4. Apparently, the face of literature has been changed before. Several times. Also, people in the publishing industry actually don't look too kindly on you when you trash everything that they've produced up till this point. Who would have thought?

Dear Agent,

My novel will remind you of several of the greatest works of literature. Its premise, its style, its striking prose, are all reminiscent of such popular and acclaimed books that you yourself have admired and perhaps even played a hand in publishing. Reminiscent, but even better. I've synthesized all the elements of those successful works into something that transcends them all. If you love them, you'll want to marry mine.


5. Comparing your book to everything ever written might not be the smartest idea. Occasionally, just maybe, it might come up short. Besides, you're beginning to realize that regardless of the genuis of your book, it may never get recognized. After all, the market is so flooded with buffoons who think they're revolutionary just for finishing a dumb book that yours could easily get lost in the shuffle. Hardened, embittered but still fundamentally deluded, you move into the fifth and most intractable stage, one in which you could very well remain permanently ensconced.

Dear Agent,

Yeah, I've written a book. What of it? I was going to show it to you, but apparently you're a bit near-sighted when it comes to recognizing genius. You think it's just like everything that's come before. You think it's too unusual. You think it needs more revisions. You think it's over-written. Well, you know what? You don't deserve its awesomeness. In fact, I'm glad you don't want it. Glad, I tell you! The publishing industry is just one great big cabal, conspiring to keep my brilliance from being showcased. And I wouldn't want you to publish my book even if you paid me.


Wait, what?