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Where to Query This Week (11.06.24) | Plus, learning to love the process, not just the product

Nov 06, 2024

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Welcome to Sub Club’s Where to Query This Week!

This week, we welcome Kim Narby to the column. I met Kim through a workshop we took with Chelsea Bieker (we are both super fans), and we have since remained in touch as she now contributes monthly to Write or Die Magazine! And yes, I somehow get everyone I know involved in the mag, LOL.

In her essay below, she shares how while she expected to complete and query her novel quickly, her process was much longer (and more transformative) than she anticipated. Kim also reflects on the importance of letting the story take as much time as it needs, even if that means derailing your timeline or a complete rewrite.

Personally, I love this reminder that there’s no rush when it comes to writing. It's hard not always to want to be in the next phase of our journey, but—and this is something I considered tattooing to my forehead while I was writing my first novel so that maybe I could finally internalize it—the process is the point. The actual writing is truly the most important and the most magical part.

Here is Kim on learning to love the process, not just the product.

» » If want to ask a question in our Query Hotline, fill out the form here with any questions you might have about querying—whether that’s around agents, indie presses, book contests, formatting, genres, or if you just need someone to tell you you’re doing just fine. (Submit your question here) « «

How Three Years, A Complete Rewrite, and a Little Heartbreak Made Me a Better Writer

My book was supposed to be ready to query two years ago.

I’d been working on it for nearly three years. I finished the first draft and spent months editing and rewriting the ending once and then twice. I used notecards to figure out the right order for the narrative, which would move back and forth in time. Finally, in December 2022, I printed out a copy, spiral-bound (and incredibly expensive) at FedEx. My book was something I could hold in my hands. I sat down on my couch on New Year’s Day with a stack of colored pens. It took me exactly 24 hours to read the book, and at the end, I thought: Huh. That was okay.

When I started writing the book, a few weeks before lockdown began, I had little to no experience writing fiction. I’d always considered myself a ‘writer’ in that ambiguous, amorphous sense where you find yourself good with words and sentences but hardly ever with creative inspiration. I didn’t feel comfortable labeling myself that way aloud. I hadn’t actually done much writing since college. And even then, I was mostly analyzing other people’s writing. But I had read thousands of books. When the idea for my novel came to me, I dove in without questioning it. I would figure it out as I went.

A month after I read my novel through for the first time, I cracked open Refuse to be Done by

Matt Bell

, long recommended by one of my favorite writers,

Chelsea Bieker

. Bell’s book is a quick read that has many incredibly important tips. But in essence, he advises four steps toward a final draft of a book:

1. Write the first draft
2. Outline your book
3. Rewrite the book (from the ground up, no copy-and-pasting)
4. Polish the book

When I got to point three, I said aloud, Oh, f*** no. I had edited the book as I drafted it. I was convinced that step shouldn’t apply to me. I was years into the project already, and starting over seemed impossible. Since it was my first book, I decided I would simply let it be slightly disappointing: very commercial, a little cliché and cringy. I was confident (in the way we artists must be, blindingly so) that the book would still get published as it was.

I stewed over Refuse to be Done for many more weeks, until I read All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews, a book that knocked me on my ass, made me scream with laughter, and ache with tenderness for the struggle of the human experience. One night, sitting in bed with the book, I looked up from the page and thought to myself: I want my book to be this good.

In the three years since I’d started writing my novel, I had undergone what amounted to a self-directed MFA. I took classes in fiction and plotting, creative nonfiction and joy-first-drafting (shout-out A.E. Osworth and RIP Catapult), along with many weekend workshops with my favorite authors. I sustained two writing groups, and devoured craft books and writing podcasts. I regularly attended book launches and readings in New York. I had become a different kind of reader, and at the same time, suddenly, a real writer. My book—as it was—represented a combination of my writing skills from the past three years, which had evolved drastically. I knew I had become a better writer. I wanted my book to represent that.

Begrudgingly, I took Bell’s advice. I outlined. I wrote bullet points on the forward momentum of each chapter (what I now know are beats). With this new macro perspective on the story, it became clear to me what chapters were redundant and which scenes could be combined. Then, I rewrote the whole book.

Earlier this year, I sent the new version to four friends. I actioned their feedback (including a massive rewrite to remove the pandemic from the book entirely) and then worked with an editor for additional revisions (I cannot recommend Hannah Beresford enough).

In August, I sat down to read through the book again. Generally, it was the same story—the same characters, mostly the same scenes, the same overall plot and ending. But the book had been transformed. There were sentences I did not remember writing; sentences I might have underlined if I’d encountered them in a book myself. As I read the final chapter, I cried, both because the story had finally clicked—the ending felt poignant and perfectly paced—and also because the book was finally something I was proud of.

You’ll hear writers say this a lot, and I’m here to reiterate: There is no rush. Let the work take the time it needs. My book is likely not yet done, but I’ve taken as far as I can on my own. That’s when you know you’re ready.

(If there are any agents out there looking for an upmarket plot-driven novel about queer love and queer friendship, have I got a story for you.)

Kim Narby is a dyke fiction writer and essayist —by morning and night—and technical project manager by day. She lives in Brooklyn with her anxious-attached emotional support cocker spaniel, Georgia. Kim is currently working on her first novel. You can find her on social media @kimnarby.

Reminder: My 90-Day Novel writing challenge is now underway! We are really enjoying keeping each other accountable by checking in each day, and some real progress has already been made on many of our works in process! If you are looking for a boost to start a novel or to finish the current project you are in the middle of, join us over on In the Weeds! Learn how to join here.

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