Someone asked me if I feel discouraged. Eight query letters sent. Five rejection letters received. No, not at all was my response. I’m just getting started.

There was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have been so confident or calm. In my twenties I would have thrown in the towel. Given up on the possibility of ever being published. And in my thirties, maybe even forties, I would have questioned my own level of competence as well as the competence of those reading my query letter. (If you’re an agent or publisher who just read my query letter please disregard. That kind of thinking was a long time ago.)

In my sixties I’m not as easily thrown by delays or criticism or even rejection. Don’t get me wrong. I can still work myself into a frenzy. Believe me. Ask anyone who knows me well. In general, though, it seems to me that I’m calmer, and I simply know more as I grow older. I’ve experienced more. Over time, as I watch what happens in my life and the lives of people around me, my perspective changes. I change. The sheer act of living changes what I used to believe into what I know, what I’m certain of.

I used to believe there was a Master Plan for my life, for all our lives. Now I know there is. I used to believe God’s timing is perfect. But now, I know it is. 

So I’ll keep on querying agents and publishers. No doubt I’ll receive more rejection letters. But someday, probably when I least expect it, I’ll find a home for Profound Secrets. I’ll find the place where my novel belongs.

Of that, I am certain.