The Story of an Underdog

Dear Little Debut Novel,

This is an ode to you.

First, your author submitted you to agents. No one quite got you.

Finally, an agent thought maybe she got you. She needed your author to make some significant changes.

Your author totally rewrote you, and sent you back to the agent.

The agent took you up and went out with you. She was a good agent, because even after you were rejected by sixty million companies and imprints she kept trying, every time she met a new editor.

Finally, she ran out of editors. But she put you on her side table and asked your author to maybe work on something else.

Your author was sad. You were her heart and soul. She didn't think she wanted any other book. She wasn't sure she wanted to write anymore.

Finally, your agent, who hadn't quite gotten the hint that you were a failure, tried one last place. The editor there had misgivings about you, and passed on you. She liked you a lot, though, but thought you needed some major work.

Your agent pleaded and kicked and stamped her feet. You needed an editor to work with you on your development, she said. Think of what we could make together.

The editor went to her publisher, who agreed to make an extremely modest investment in this book that everyone else in the world turned down, and which still needed a lot of work.

You worked really hard, little debut novel. No one was giving you any credit for being anything other than a very little very debut novel, but you didn't mind. You went chugging along.

Then the galleys went out, and people started to talk about you.

Then the rights sales started coming in.

Then the sub rights bidding wars started.

Then the reviews started coming in. You were, they declared, a work of crazy daring genius.

Suddenly, everyone wanted you.

Suddenly, everyone was repackaging and repositioning you as their lead title.

Suddenly, all those publishers who had rejected you initially were coming back with subrights offers that were (literally) exponents of what you actually sold for the first time around.

Suddenly, bookstores were quintupling their buy-ins so that there would be much more of you available on their shelves.

Suddenly, full-page articles about you and your author were running in major national publications.

Whoda thunk?

Actually, the funny thing is... in retrospect, it seems so obvious. Like no other outcome was ever possible.

Go you, little book. Sure, you had a team of awesome people (ahem) working for you. But you also clearly rocked all along. Go you, for not giving up.