Why shelving your book doesn’t mean you’ve failed
By Megan Amato
Did your heart give a little squeeze just from reading the title? Apologies. I know this is a topic that always has given me the sense of nausea that’s usually attached to failure—and that’s something we need to talk about. I am going to say the words now and hope that by the end you will believe them: shelving your book does not make you a failure.
From one writer to another, I know how much we put into our books. Countless nights of staring at a screen as words flow from our fingertips to the page, and other nights tossing and turning when we can’t find it in ourselves to write, but the book is in your head, ruminating. We live, breathe, sometimes bleed, and often feed our stories with everything we have until they are born in all their complicated glory.
Sometimes, however, all of that isn’t enough. We may send it out to query only to be continuously rejected by agents and publishers. Those lucky enough to have received feedback with their rejections may have some idea of what’s wrong with their manuscript, but many of us often feel at a loss as to why our manuscript isn’t working.
I write this with the experience of someone who has shelved a book they spent ten years working on—no, you didn’t read that wrong. I put ten years of research and writing, followed by too many rewrites to name, into a book that is now sitting on that proverbial shelf. Deciding to shelve the book didn’t come to me in one day. It came in increments, with every rejection, with every reread of my story and by reading other stories.
I still love many parts of my story to this day, beautiful elements and prose, and characters that I adore with my whole heart, but there were also many weak elements and even some problematic ones. The issue was that I had begun writing this story when I was a teenager, and as I grew as a person, my ideas about what made good writing and what should be included outgrew the story—but I couldn’t let it go. Instead of starting a new project, I rewrote and rewrote the story in a futile attempt to make it better. In the end, I had to ask myself, “am I the one who should be writing this story?” And the answer was no.
I felt sick for weeks—months—when I was considering shelving, and when I finally decided to do so, it was an arrow to my heart—but it was also a relief. In making the choice to set my story aside, I let go of the pressure of trying to make it work, and I gave myself time to breathe. Now, when I look at my manuscript nearly a year after I shelved it and worked on other projects, it’s easier to see what wasn’t working.
It isn’t goodbye forever, but for now. I have future plans for a few characters and plot points that fit in nicely with another project. I’ve grown as a writer within the time I set it aside, and while it hurt to let go, it feels better to see that growth.
What I’ve learned about shelving can be summed up in three points:
It’s important to take a step back—whether it’s only for now or forever
Sometimes you only need a month of setting the book aside before reviewing it with fresh eyes to see what needs editing or reworking. Other times, you may have outgrown your own story, and it’s time to say goodbye for months, years or even for good. Whatever your reasons for stepping aside, that time away from your manuscript can only benefit you and your story as you continue to learn and grow as a writer.
It’s not a race
When we see people reach their dreams, find agents and publishers, have their books in the world, we often measure our success by theirs. Writers can often get caught in the trap of needing to get our stories out as fast as possible before someone else does. When we struggle to escape this trap, we can make things worse by rushing our process.
We all work at our own pace, have different things going on in our lives, personal and/or outside influences that affect how and when we can write. That doesn’t make us less relevant, less skilled, or less of a writer.
And, as long as we’re not trying to publish anything harmful, your story is worthy of however long it takes to be told. Often, that extra time can only help to make your manuscript even more extraordinary.
You are not a failure
Shelving your manuscript doesn’t have to mean that your story, characters or ideas are dead; it just gives you time to grow and to improve your craft. So, scratch the word failure from the page, crinkle it up and toss it in the rubbish where it belongs. Instead, think of that shelved book as an investment of time put towards nurturing your skill as a storyteller.
