My Book is Finished, Now What?

My opiate recovery memoir, “The Radioactive Patient: Chronic Pain, Suboxone, & Rock ‘N Roll has been professionally revised and beta-read like crazy. I know it’s not perfect, but I’ve been told there’s no such thing as a perfect book. YouTube’s Daniel Green says to shoot for 95% perfection.

So now I’m in the querying process. It’s as grueling as they say, even though I employ positive thinking and visualize manifesting a decent book deal, a modest advance and the book being published. I’ve been querying since January, and have 40 agent queries out there and 8 queries out to small publishers. Other than one manuscript request, it’s been “No, No, it’s not for us, good luck on your querying journey” give me a break. Half of the agents never got back to me. But I recently learned that in some cases, that’s office policy. They want their agents to spend time on things that produce revenue, not personalized or form letter rejection slips.  

The level of rejection one gets from agents is tough to deal with. It’s the ones that roll in quickly that worry me most. Also, my first chapter is highly graphic as it deals with opiate-induced constipation, which can be quite serious. Did any of you see Netflix’s “Dirty John?” the titular character had that issue and it nearly killed him. Also, I’m not sure my title, (The Radioactive Patient, Chronic Pain, Suboxone, & Rock ‘N Roll) is any good. 

About comp titles: In 2026, two of my four titles will be older than three years old. Because I’ve got to hunt down more recently released opiate recovery memoirs, I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading! I was amazed by Deborah A. Lott’s “Don’t go Crazy Without Me” on Red Hen Press, a smallish publisher. Also, Laura Cathcart Robbins “Stash: My Life in Hiding” was terrific as well. Definitely adding that to the list of comps.  

What I’ve noticed about all these published memoirists is that they’ve paid their dues in terms of getting stories placed in major publications like the New York Times, The New Yorker, The Paris Review, Elle Magazine or whatever. Other writers have podcasts or well-trafficked YouTube channels. Most of them have MFAs. I feel like a newbie compared to these memoir writers. But you never know, do you. Someone might fall in love with my bold, rebellious approach to the subject of “recovery.” Like the word “powerless,” which is something AA members have to accept. And not just powerless over their drugs of choice and alcohol, but their lives. That’s why I reject it. If I’m so powerless, as they say, why would I go to meetings and try to better my life? It would be futile. 

Luckily, I don’t believe I’m powerless.