As a writer, I’m one of the lucky ones. The two books I’ve written were published by a huge publishing house. They did pretty well, too. Nice reviews, decent sales. But that was then. 2008 and 2011 to be exact. It was a time when, if you rolled memoir, humor, and chick lit into a fast, funny read, agents and publishers were interested, really interested.

I was good at that. Still am. Only now, no one is interested. Why? Because I don’t have a huge platform, a mega social media presence. I’m not a TikTok or Instagram influencer. Hell, my largest following is on Facebook and that thing, I fear, is as doomed as the Dodo.

It’s very disheartening and frankly I’ve come to the conclusion that it would be easier to grow a third eye in the middle of my forehead than to find an agent. There are days I want to quit querying and walk away from the idea of ever being published again. But I don’t. I persist. And if you are or have ever been in a spot similar to mine, maybe my reasons for stubbornly pursuing my goal will help you to do the same.

I believe in my work.

Before I ever had an article, never mind a book, published, I believed I had…

(This piece concludes here. Thank you for reading!)