Ah, the sweet, deafening sound of silence. That’s where I’ve found myself lately—staring at an inbox that has decided to give me the cold shoulder. You know the one: no new responses from agents, no polite rejections, no exciting requests for more pages—just a whole lot of nothing. It’s like the literary version of ghosting, and I’m starting to wonder if my query letters have accidentally fallen into the Bermuda Triangle of email correspondence.

At first, I told myself to be patient. Publishing, as we all know, is a slow-moving beast. Agents are busy people with slush piles as tall as Mount Everest, so a little wait is to be expected. But after weeks of refreshing my inbox (okay, I may have worn out my refresh button at this point), the realization has hit: radio silence is, in fact, still a message. And that message is… it’s time for Round Two.

Yep, that’s right. I’m gearing up to send out my next batch of query letters, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned on this journey, it’s that persistence is key. Or, as I like to call it, “polite stubbornness.” While some of my original queries may still be floating out there in the agent-ether, I can’t afford to sit around waiting for them to reappear. It’s time to take matters into my own hands and start anew.

Now, you might be wondering how I’m feeling about all this. Honestly? I’m somewhere between “optimistically determined” and “mildly exasperated.” On the one hand, I’m excited to put Marked by Fate in front of fresh eyes. There’s always that glimmer of hope that the next agent I query will be the one. On the other hand, the endless waiting game has me feeling like I’m playing literary whack-a-mole—just when I think I’ve made progress, the silence pops back up to taunt me.

But here’s the thing: silence doesn’t mean failure. It doesn’t mean my book isn’t good enough, or that I’m on the wrong path. It just means I haven’t found the right match yet. And querying is, after all, a bit like dating. You send out your best self (or, in this case, your best manuscript), and hope that someone out there swipes right. When you don’t hear back, you dust yourself off and try again—because who wants to settle for the wrong fit anyway?

So, here I am, preparing for Round Two. The first step? Revisiting my query letter. After all, if I’m going to win over a new batch of agents, I want to make sure I’m putting my best foot forward. This is like getting ready for a second date—you don’t want to wear the same outfit as the first time (even if you looked fabulous). So, I’ll be tweaking my pitch, polishing my prose, and maybe throwing in a fresh metaphor or two to keep things interesting.

Next comes the research phase. Ah, yes, the joy of poring over agent profiles, wish lists, and submission guidelines like a detective on the trail of a literary matchmaker. I’m back in the game, searching for those elusive agents who are not just looking for a YA dystopian novel, but my YA dystopian novel. The good news is, there are plenty of agents out there—somewhere—who are searching for exactly what I’ve written. The trick is finding them before the radio silence drives me to start talking to my houseplants (again).

And then comes the moment of truth: hitting “send” on a new round of queries. There’s something equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking about launching those emails into the universe, knowing that your future is, once again, in the hands of an unknown reader. Will they connect with the story? Will they see the potential in Marked by Fate? Or will I be back to listening to the sound of silence?

Either way, I’ve made peace with the process. Querying is not a sprint; it’s more of an ultra-marathon with occasional pit stops for snacks and pep talks. Some agents might still respond to my original batch of letters (hope springs eternal!), but in the meantime, I’m not waiting around. I’m pressing forward, because Marked by Fate deserves its shot, and I’m not one to give up after a few bumps in the road—or a few weeks of inbox crickets.

So, here’s to Round Two. To the fresh queries, the new possibilities, and the inevitable highs and lows that come with this wild ride we call publishing. I’m ready for whatever comes next, whether it’s another wave of silence or, dare I say it, a request for more pages. Either way, I’ll keep going, keep sending, and keep believing that the right agent is out there, just waiting to discover my words.

In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I’ll be right here—staring at my inbox, sipping coffee, and gearing up for whatever this next round brings. Because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that persistence is a writer’s best friend… right after caffeine.

Stay tuned, folks. The silence may be loud right now, but there’s always a chance the next sound I hear will be that magical “ding” of a response. Here’s hoping.