Autism and Querying
Querying Literary Agents and Acquiring Editors is a nerve-wracking experience for everyone. For Autistic writers it is a special kind of torment.
Let me count the ways…
There is no time-table. Every agent and editor has different submission guidelines and response times. Some agents send form rejection letters to let you know it’s a pass. Others don’t.
Each experience is independent. There are community resources like QueryTracker where writers can disclose their personal experiences with individual agents, so you might have an inkling of how long it takes on average for an agent to respond or how many submissions are currently in their Inbox. However, there is no arithmetic to assign value or meaning to how long ago you submitted your query and how many responses have been reported.
At times it’s counterintuitive. You may get feedback telling you to change one element of your manuscript from an agent and feedback from another source telling you how much they love that same piece.
It’s entirely subjective. Perhaps the most critical element I’ve taken away from the querying process is that for an agent to make an offer, they need to have fallen in love with your manuscript. Falling in love is perhaps the most subjective experience known to humankind. It’s entirely possible that you might query an agent who reads your piece on a particularly bad day, and things that they would have overlooked the day before stand out and change what might have been favorable into a pass.
Autism is a neurological divergence. Autistic people see the world differently, interpret social cues and morays atypically, and often seek to establish a reproducible system of behavior and attitudes to find comfort and peace of mind. Autism frequently pushes towards hyperfocus and obsessive preoccupation.
When you combine all of the relative chaos and indeterminable factors of the querying process, and apply a pattern-seeking singularly driven individual with a history of misinterpreting what may be clear to others, and constantly questioning the accuracy of their interpretations — what results is a special blend of neuroticism and anxiety. There are times when I have a hard time sleeping. There are tears. There is cursing and gnashing of teeth.
There are also moments of joy. Getting positive feedback, helpful encouragement, and quiet determined moments of rededication towards the path. It’s trying. It’s excruciating at times. I believe that the benefit is worth the cost. I’ve had extremely rewarding interactions with agents that reassured me towards effort.
I have few recommendations towards a betterment of process. Agents are the gatekeepers of the literary kingdom. There are reasons for it, there are ugly sides to it.
What it is, ultimately, is a reality that I’ve accepted. Fingers crossed.