Waiting Mode, Submissions, and Moving On

Fantasy author David Green gets *real* about being an autistic writer on submission.

My name is David Green, and I have been on submission with a cosy fantasy for twelve months this week.

‘Twelve months’, I hear you say, ‘Isn’t that more or less standard for people looking for a traditional deal?’ 

I guess so.

Yes and no would probably be more accurate. Some fly through the process in relatively no time at all. I know some writers who spent only a month or so on sub. Others take even longer than a year and multiple tries. I know some of these people, too. But, honestly, it’s an answer that’s different for everyone, and there’s always a little murkiness around the entire process. You see, this is my first time doing the whole trad thing, and it isn’t something a lot of people talk about. I can see why; it’s not pleasant, even if it is necessary for those chasing their dream.

And while I’m certain it’s unpleasant for everyone – writers, agents and, yes, the commissioning editors too – it is simply excruciating for an autistic person.

Oh yeah, I’m autistic. Should have probably mentioned that up top.

As a late-diagnosed autistic, there are plenty of things I’m still striving to understand about myself while, at the same time, my diagnosis sheds new light on various facets of what I just thought was my personality, or what I was toldwas my personality. 

One of these being my struggle to function when waiting for something.

Now, as a child (and into teens until I was able to mask this, which is an exhausting and anxiety-provoking technique many autistics carry out to ‘fit in’), I was just called impatient. Stubborn. Spoiled, too (which is frankly laughable as a second child in a working-class Irish family from the North-west of England who grew up on a staple diet of hand-me-downs and sayings like ‘You’re lucky to have anything at all’). With that said, I’m sure you’ve heard traditional publishing and the submission process is all about being patient.

The problem with “waiting mode”

But patience isn’t the problem. Or, rather, a lack of it. What I’ve come to discover is a little thing called ‘Waiting Mode’. It isn’t just something autistics deal with. People with ADHD can become paralysed with it, too. For me, it’s a situation where I know I have to wait for something, and I can’t do anything else until that looming thing has been and gone.

Sounds trivial, doesn’t it? I’ve been told it is.

But here’s an everyday example: I have a doctor’s appointment at the (for me) awkward time of 11.30am (and, as lots of autistic people will understand, I have plenty of doctor appointments due to chronic pain and general anxiety issues. Both are fantastic). The appointment time isn’t late in the day, but it isn’t early, either. There’s time for a bit of work. Maybe a coffee with a friend, or some exercise maybe. 

But I just can’t do anything of substance until that appointment happens. 

It isn’t for a lack of trying. But my brain just can’t accept the fact I could pour my focus into something else because there happens to be something else looming in my schedule.

(Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash)

It’s frustrating. It makes me incredibly sad and you can imagine the amount of self-loathing I direct at myself when I just can’t do something because I have to go listen to a doctor ask me ‘Have you tried relaxing?’ at some point later in the day.

The process of absorbing such encounters is just as drawn-out and aggravating.

So let’s apply this to the submission process. And, by the way, this is in no way an attack on the hard-working and passionate commissioning editors. The industry is the industry and there are so many people writing. More than ever. Commissioning editors are overworked and under-valued, and come in for unnecessary flack. The vast majority of them are doing the best they can in extremely tough circumstances.

But back to the dreaded ‘Waiting Mode’.

The submission process is often described as a long one, but it’s utterly unpredictable, too. Something could happen quickly. It might take over a year. You could die on submission (a term for when your book does the rounds without a buyer which everyone dreads and I fear is happening to me right now). Put simply, a writer and their agent arewaiting. But how long for? It’s impossible to know.

You can see why this can be a problem for the neurodivergent.

A lot of writers navigate this period by working on something else entirely. It’s great advice. Honestly, I have somuch respect for these people who can do this. And I envy them just as much. Really, a distraction from the process is what seems best, and there’s no better distraction for a writer than to write something else. We all have a plethora of ideas burning holes into notebooks or bubbling away in our brains.

But how can an autistic go away and write something else when, without warning, the thing they’re hoping for might just… happen. Like that.

Take me, for example. I still believe in the book I have on submission. It’s commercial: it’s a cosy fantasy with found family at its core and a strong message of loving yourself and showing kindness and acceptance to others. It’s something we could all do with at the moment. It’s unique, too: the protagonist is an elderly, asexual mapmaker who is autistic. There aren’t many central characters like Greton, and with a growing spotlight on autism and asexuality, combined with continued poor representation in mass media for both, there’s a gap for him to fill. 

And we’ve come tantalisingly close to an offer.

There’s been more than one ‘I really love all of this book but cosy isn’t our focus at the moment’ and even a ‘I love the character, the themes, the story but the writing style is too close to Tolkien for my tastes’ (honestly a massive compliment even though my writing style is nothing like Tolkien’s) to ‘This books is warm, kind, beautiful but we’re only buying Romantasy at the moment’. All are frustrating but satisfying in a way. We’re on the right path.

We’ve also had some horrible ableist comments that were eye-opening, disgusting, and disappointing that I might talk about more at some point in the future, as well as the usual ‘Cosy isn’t for me’ and ‘Can’t connect’ comments. We still have a number of responses we’re waiting on.

At times, it has felt almost there. Others, a million miles away. It’s the submission process.

Can you truly commit to the new when you’re still waiting?

So, I followed the advice of others. I started writing something new. I love what I’m working on. I really don’t think there’s anything else like it: it’s fresh and unique but also commercial and accessible. It’s fun, deep, kind, and honest.

I’d really like to finish it. And I feel terrible that I haven’t and I’m having serious trouble doing so even though I know how unique and stand-out this concept is, and how much I love Tanwin and her world.

Because if things were to happen for my cosy fantasy, that would become the priority again. And that is the problem with ‘Waiting Mode’ and autism. How can I truly commit to something else when this other thing isn’t resolved?

And that is so frustrating.

This isn’t anyone’s fault, and I understand the reality. But that’s autism. I understand the theory regarding a lot of things that my brain simply can’t accept and put into practice. I know loud noises won’t hurt me but they still scare and startle me. I know people use small talk to break the ice but it still utterly mystifies me 42 years into my life. So, like with the other concepts in my life I can’t put into practice, my frustration around my inability to commit, to put one thing on the backburner and move on, gets turned inwards and stifles the whole creativity process further.

You can see how I admire and envy the people who can do this.

‘Waiting Mode’ brings with it other questions, too. ‘Why isn’t it happening for me as quickly as it does for others?’ ‘Am I the right fit?’ ‘Am I good enough?’ Anyone reading is free to speculate on any of these points, and you can believe I have. Even if I didn’t want to and wanted to do nothing more than to concentrate on my work-in-progress.

Because I know it can take several books to land a deal. I know the path towards traditional publishing isn’t a straight one without a single bump in the road. Believe me, I know achieving the dream isn’t always down to the quality of the book on submission.

(Photo by Zac Ong on Unsplash)

But knowing these things to be true and getting an autistic brain to accept them as being applicable to me isn’t so simple. Autistic people have had a life of looking in from the outside, of being told they are not good enough or not right enough, and not just by other people. By ourselves, too. We’re trained into believing we’re the problem.

So knowing when to move on and being able to move on are a completely different set of circumstances. It might become clear that it’s best to move on and create something new a long time before being able to do so becomes reality.

And this is why I’m writing this. I see a lot of neurodivergent people beginning their querying and submission process, and I wish them all the best. And I’m here to offer advice and support. But the quicker we can accept the need to move on, the faster we can push beyond ‘Waiting Mode’, the better. Easier said than done. But it needs saying.

Now, to finish that work-in-progress and to stop refreshing my emails…