My wife and I are getting ready to move, so recently I went through all my stuff. We’ve taken a sh*t-ton of stuff to Goodwill. Lots of the jettisoned crap wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss-off, “Namaste” blessing from Marie Kondo.
But I’m not tossing my stack of agent and editor rejections.
Why? I have no idea. I find them inspiring. Weird, huh?
Maybe because of one letter I found. (I’ve included an image here. Click to enlarge. However, I am obscuring the arrogant editor’s name.)
The year was 1989. I had written my (Ta-da!) first book. Well, first manuscript if you want to be precise about it. That story took me six years to write. I thought it was pretty good—good enough to look for an agent. A friend at a bookstore (that would be the Tattered Cover) had a connection to a publisher. One of the big boys.
Of course the editor could have said “No, thanks.” He could have sent me a note along the lines of 1.9 trillion other rejections before it: “I am sorry your submission is not right for us at this time.” But, no. He wanted to rub my face in it—and he did so with completely mind-blowing logic:
“Since it is essentially a mystery and the only mysteries we publish are those by big-name writers (P.D. James, Patricia Wentworth, Ross Macdonald), I’m afraid there is not a place for FAIR AND SQUARE on our list.”
I mean, seriously, WTF? That’s your reason?
In other words, no rookie greenhorns allowed!
In other words, nobody ever took a chance on Ross Macdonald—he must have been famous before his first book was ever published!
In other words, “Sorry, Mr. King, Carrie has some writing we like but you are not a big name.”
In other words, “Sorry, Mr. Lennon, ‘Please Please Me’ is a catchy tune, but you are not a big name.”
Later that same year (1989), I got an agent for this novel. A good agent—he’s still around! It was the same exact copy of the manuscript. True, the book never sold. In fact, it would be another 18 years until I would get published, and by that point, I had written four books and it was my third novel that got picked up—albeit by a small, independent publisher.
In retrospect, that novel (in its 1989 form) wasn’t very good. The plot? Fantastic. The writing? Weak! (If the editor had told me so, it might have hurt. But at least his reasons for rejection would have been on solid ground.) In fact, FAIR AND SQUARE remains a work in progress. Yes, I still have it on the list of projects that need work. I plan to fix it, and I plan to sell it, too!
I share this letter as encouragement. As inspiration. When they reject you, editors and agents sometimes come up with a reason. But consider this: if they knew (if they really really really knew), every single title an agent represented and every single title a publisher buys…would be a hit!
But they don’t know.
Not really.
Never—and I mean never—let them get you down!
This is my “favorite” rejection letter.
“We did review your proposal, and for some reason we don’t feel we can represent it. Some of them come close, and yours may well be one of those, but we do have our reasons for declining.”
Thanks, Terry.
You are so right. Never let them get you down. Over the years, I’ve seen many published writers lose contracts and then in a while–sometimes longer than others–there they are, on top again. Keep riding the waves. Kowabunga.
Right on, Shannon! See you in the surf.
Mark, I save mine, too. One of my women’s fiction novels was rejected because the agent said he “didn’t know how to market it “… those were his words! I was glad for his rejection … if he’s in the business of marketing books and he doesn’t know how to market it, I considered myself lucky that he declined. Entertaining post, thanks!
That is hilarious, Janet ! The things these people say !
In ’95 I went through all the hoops, found an Agent from proper sources, etc. New York. Sent the Novel, she sent it back with note that said I WOULD BE A PUBLISHED AUTHOR & that she had “met someone at a cocktail party” that she said I should have look at the MSS. $250 per 10 pages. $250! I sent 10 pages and got back a “form” letter demonstrating that the Guy hadn’t even read the 10 pages. I pulled out of that and about 6 months later saw the “cocktail party” guy and his wife had been sentenced to a stretch in the pen for fraud. They were preying on aspiring authors. I walked away from writing, figured it was just a con game. & have only just taken it back up.
Arrrrgh, so sorry, Donald. That really sucks. Good luck this time around. If you’re in a writing group, get introductions to agents or come to conferences like Colorado Gold where the agents are legit. Keep on writing. Don’t let the bastards win.
Now that my publisher has dropped its mystery line, I’ll give agent-hunting another try after I’ve fixed my two crime fiction manuscripts which now gather virtual dust on my computer (and a flash drive as well). I have a pretty tough hide after all these years, but I expect twinges of hurt feelings when I receive the inevitable rejections. It’s just the way we humans are.
You undoubtedly know this now, but for others, I’ll mention it. This was actually a good rejection. The editor didn’t send you a form letter, and he/she (probably a grad student reader) did give you an actual reason. it was one that should have made you feel hopeful about your project. The reader was saying there was nothing wrong with your book. It was just not right for that house because they only published established writers. (St. Martins? Viking?) They were hinting that you might have better luck at a smaller or new publisher. Good for you for trying them. Why not? But you have to admit there was a bit of arrogance on the author end too (winks).
I’ve kept a box of my rejections from when I was a teenager writing sci-fi stories and through my early career as a freelance writer. Nice little pieces of paper with artwork sometimes. Mostly form rejections but encouraging notes now and then. Now rejections are email and not worth saving. My intention has always been to cut up the rejections and make a piece of collage art out of them. A sort of in-your-face-look-at-my-success-now artistic statement. Despite good success as a freelance writer and piddling success as a novelist, I just haven’t gotten around to doing it.