For authors going the traditional publishing route, like I hope to, the first step to publication is writing and revising the book. The next step is getting a literary agent—someone to help you further polish your manuscript, submit it to publishers, and negotiate a book deal. Getting an agent is difficult, and it can often take as long as writing the book (or longer).

Some writers call this period “the query trenches.” The query trenches aren’t as dangerous or demanding as the trenches of WWI, but they do kinda suck. They seem so easy while you’re working on the manuscript. Someday, you tell yourself, I’ll be done with this stupid book and I can start querying. Querying, you think, will be so much easier than writing. You use this to convince yourself to finish the book. Then, when you do finish, you realize the query trenches are their own special kind of hell.

I’ve been in the query trenches since May 2017, although the first eight months were kind of a practice round. I only sent a dozen queries in that time, because I wanted to gauge the response and polish my query letter some more. I got a middling response—two full manuscript requests out of a dozen cold queries, as well as four requests from agents I met at conferences. This means my query letter wasn’t bad, but it could probably be better. So I sent it through some critique partners and worked on it more in November and December. Now, after dipping my toe into the query trenches, I’m ready to fully dive in.

Querying requires more work than you think.

Querying may seem easy compared to writing a book, but there’s a lot of time and energy that goes into each query sent, even if you have your query letter polished and ready to go.

For one thing, you have to stalk each agent online and tweak your letter to personalize it for that agent. And each agent has different requirements. Some just want the query letter. Some want the first five pages, or 20 pages, or three chapters. Some want a synopsis; some want a one-sentence pitch. Some want to receive queries via email, while others use special online forms.

Then there’s all the time spent double- and triple-spellchecking everything you’re about to send to the agent. All told, it takes me about an hour per query.

And there’s more to do than just fire off queries. There’s also polishing and re-polishing your manuscript, searching for new agents to query, writing synopses and pitches of different lengths, coping with a lot of rejections, and trying to take your mind off it all by working on a new project.

Waiting is the worst part.

There’s no instant gratification in the query trenches. Most agents respond one to three months after you send the letter. Some agents don’t respond at all unless they want to see more—I have mixed feelings about these. On one hand, I don’t have to suffer through a rejection letter. On the other hand, it’s a little like when my college boyfriend dumped me by not talking to me anymore, which felt worse than being dumped to my face.

When you do get good news—when an agent requests the full—it can take months for them to read it. I sent my manuscript to four agents between August and October, and I haven’t heard back from any of them. This is normal, but it doesn’t make the waiting any easier.

There’s a lot of waiting. And a lot of rejections. And many of those rejections come after months and months of waiting and hoping, which only makes the rejection sting that much more.

In the query trenches, you make your own happiness.

It’s an exciting time—after all, every query letter I send could turn out to be the one. It’s also a hopeless time because, statistically, any given query will most likely end in rejection. It all depends on how you look at it. I try to be glass-half-full about it, which helps me stay positive in the trenches.

I’ve found the best cure for the query trench blues is to distract yourself with another project. For me, that means writing short stories, working on the next book, and planning a wedding. Also cuddling with my dog, who will never reject me.

If you’re in the query trenches, know that you’re not alone. And it’s going to get better…eventually. Hang in there, and so will I.