Ashley Jordan (she/her) is a millennial from Atlanta by way of Brooklyn. She attended Spelman College, obtaining a degree in Psychology and a lifelong love and appreciation for women’s stories. While she currently works in public health, she has embraced writing as a hobby since penning her first short story in second grade. When Ashley isn’t at the day job or writing, she is either at a Beyoncé concert, rewatching Mad Men, or arguing about basketball with anyone who will listen. In 2023, she became a Reese’s Book Club LitUp Fellow.

In 2020, I decided to do two things with my time in lockdown: return to school to pursue my master’s, and, for some reason, write a book. I still couldn’t tell you what possessed me to attempt these two Herculean tasks at the exact same time. (Yes, that was to the tune of “Satisfied” from Hamilton.) But now that I’m on the other side of it, having miraculously succeeded at both, I’m so glad that I surrendered to my delusions and gave it a try. At its heart, my entire journey in publishing has been about being optimistic enough to chase my wildest dreams. Although sometimes it felt like they were chasing me.

My first attempts at publishing were… let’s call them earnest. I didn’t know what I was doing. My query letters were clunky, my manuscript wasn’t ready, and my confidence was mostly pretend. And yet, I happened to be querying at a rare moment – you may recall in 2020 when the publishing industry was beginning to reckon, however briefly, with its lack of diversity. Agents were opening their inboxes to stories like mine. (#BlackVoicesMatter!) They were offering feedback and second chances. I had no idea at the time how unusual that was. A year later, it would be a very different story.

That first round of querying did lead to something surprising: an offer of representation. But I turned it down. The rejections I’d received told me the manuscript wasn’t there yet, and my gut told me that this wasn’t the right fit. Still, I was encouraged. The offer—and the full requests, despite my hot mess of a query—were a sign that there was something worth pursuing. I just wasn’t there yet.

So I got to work.

With generous feedback from two agents who offered Revise & Resubmit opportunities, and mentorship through Author Mentor Match, I reimagined the book. I changed the point of view. I deepened my male lead’s arc. I shifted it from Women’s Fiction to Romance. This time, I was certain I was ready.

But by then, the landscape had shifted. The hashtags were gone. The black squares had faded from social media feeds. And more than that, I was one of many authors querying a pandemic project, pitching to agents who were inundated and understandably exhausted. The request rate was lower. The responses took months. Most offered no feedback at all—then again, sometimes that’s a blessing in disguise. (Shout out to the one agent who said she liked my concept, but not my writing!)

When I re-sent my manuscript to one of the agents who had previously requested an R&R, I felt hopeful. I’d incorporated every note she gave me. Surely she would love the new version. And she did! But… she was leaving agenting.

I was gutted. Frustrated. Burnt out. I questioned why I was subjecting myself to what felt like a humiliation ritual: hours researching agent preferences, tailoring queries, agonizing over synopses (the actual bane of my existence), only to be ghosted.

And then came LitUp.

LitUp is a fellowship launched by Reese’s Book Club for unpublished, diverse women and nonbinary writers. It includes a mentorship with a published author, a retreat, and marketing support if and when your book releases. I applied in 2021, the year it launched, and didn’t get in.

I was nearly ready to shelve my manuscript when an email arrived inviting me to reapply for the second round. I did. And I got in.

It changed everything.

Foremost, it changed my relationship with my book—it gave me confidence in it that I didn’t previously have. My mentor assured me I had all the tools I needed to make this book sing. And I was surrounded by talented, driven, brilliant authors, both published and hopeful. I’d applied to LitUp thinking it would be a great boost if I ever sold the book. I had no idea I’d walk away with a profound bond—a sisterhood—that would carry me through what can be a very tough industry.

Querying with LitUp behind me was a completely different experience. Several agents reached out to me directly once the fellowship was announced. (If you don’t already have a website, even as a querying author, consider this your sign to get one.) The fellowship partnered with agents who reviewed our queries, and I sent out a few on my own as well. In the end, I submitted about twelve full manuscripts.

Three weeks later, I received my first offer. Then five more came in over the next two weeks. It was surreal. Every conversation with potential agents left me thinking, Yep, this is the one. I created a spreadsheet to keep track, ranking agents based on enthusiasm, experience, sales, editorial vision, general vibes. It wasn’t the final deciding factor, but it helped me narrow down the options.

But I hadn’t received an offer from any of the “big” romance agents I’d been researching. The ones that show up at the top of Publisher’s Marketplace rankings and such. (Pro Tip: The middle of summer isn’t exactly the best time to query.) That’s when LitUp showed up for me again. I reached out to one of the mentors for advice. I had a handful of great options, and she assured me that I couldn’t go wrong with any of them; but she also remembered that I’d mentioned one agent in particular during our retreat: Sarah Younger—a powerhouse in romance. It turned out Sarah had been out sick during the LitUp agent round, but a couple of the mentors nudged her on my behalf.

The day before my deadline, Sarah emailed me. She said if I was still available, she’d read the manuscript within 24 hours. Twelve hours later—at 1:00 a.m.—she requested a call. The next morning, we talked for nearly two hours. Her notes were sharp, thoughtful, and completely aligned with my vision and even my lingering reservations about the book. Her notes felt right. More importantly, the match felt right.

So I said yes.

In the end, I couldn’t have asked for a better sub experience. We sold at auction to my dream imprint, to my dream editor, and now, that once-clumsy manuscript is a real, published novel.

Would any of this have happened without LitUp? Maybe. But I know it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t kept trying.

I’m deeply aware of how lucky I got with my first book. But luck alone didn’t get me here. It took years of learning, revising, researching, and seeking feedback. It took knowing what I wanted—not just “an agent,” but the kind of agent who could help me reach the places I dreamed of. I knew the imprint. I even knew the editor. And while you don’t have to be quite that specific, it helps to understand the industry you’re stepping into, and to be intentional about your goals.

I think that’s what people mean when they say, You make your own luck. It’s not just about talent. It’s about persistence. Preparation. Community. A little delusion. And the willingness to wait for it.

Once Upon a Time in Dollywood

Once Upon a Time in Dollywood by Ashley Jordan

Eve Ambroise’s career as a playwright is taking off, but her personal life is in shambles. She breaks up with her fiancé, cuts off her parents, and flees to the Tennessee mountains in search of solace. Instead, she encounters nosy townspeople and Jamie Gallagher, her infuriatingly handsome neighbor who is reeling from a grueling custody battle. Neither wants to put their heart on the line again, even as the mountains push them together. Will Eve and Jamie finally open their hearts to this unexpected love?

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