"Dear Author"...Even The Literary Assistant to the Literary Agent Will Reject You.....

We've all been rejected by literary agents, but how many of us have been rejected by literary assistants? (Probably all of us.) I once worked as a literary assistant, and I once rejected a lot of you under the name of the actual agent. That was old school practice. Now the assistants get their own letter head? Well, good for them.

Despite a Thousand Rejections

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I was surprised that among the 1,316 prose applicants to the NEA this year, I was not among the 38 chosen.  Those seemed like such reasonable odds to me, and I was surprised at how few had applied and how many had been short listed.  But, alas, it wasn't to be.  I wonder: after so many years rejected, what makes a person go on believing so strongly that each submission is going to end in success?  Any ideas on this, mice? Surely, if anybody has the answer it will be among your legion.

Pep Talk From an LROD Reader*

You shouldn't quit, or even think about it. I get twenty rejections a day. It doesn't mean anything. I write for everyone, and publish more than anyone in this country (quite literally). Also: you don't need an agent. They're the worst. I fire them routinely, when I beat them at their own job and they come in wanting some money for work they never did. (An agent has never gotten me anything--not the NY'er, the Atlantic, ESPN, 150 other places, book deals, nothing). Your book about being disowned (which prompted me to send something to the Love column thing, which was rejected) is a good idea. You can make a go of it. Pitch it up. Write a chapter or two. Share the link to the NYT thing (or just make that into a chapter; would probably take you fifteen minutes). And go straight to editors. Bosses of houses. Why not? Don't fall for what agents say. You can't approach this person, you can't approach that person. That's bollocks, so that they can maintain their parasitic existence. Go right to the EICs and head editors. You'd be surprised at the reaction. Pitch. Pitch pitch pitch. That's a good idea for a book. Really good. I am sure you could get an indie to go for it, and wouldn't be surprised if you got a major to bite, albeit, maybe, with a small advance. But good returns on the book could well lead to a bigger advance for another. Don't give up. Fuck these people. And then fuck the fuck out of them. They're frauds. They don't matter. Not in the long term, and less in the short term than anyone tends to think.

Thoughts?  Is this sage advice?  Let's hear from some industry people and editors out there: What do you think when you get a pitch from an author without an agent?  Does it mean the same thing as it used to? Is it more acceptable these days than it used to be?




*I tried to quit this blog, but now everyone's showing up with important things to share. That's okay. I can ease my way into blog retirement.

It's a Little Too Hot and Sunny Today

I think this is a pretty decent rejection.  Nice sentiment in the third paragraph: "We're aware writing is hard work, and that writers deserve some acknowledgment. A form letter doesn't speak to that need. Please Know, however, that we've read your work and appreciate your interest in the magazine."  Is this form letter better than most, or have I lost my edge? 

Lamest Phone-Call Rejection Ever

Seriously, person at small press? Seriously?! You who are an Associate Publisher--Really?!  
     You have me call you to get my rejection because you're too chaotically busy to write it down and send it?  How about just, "Thanks. It wasn't what we were looking for."  But instead you tell me you have notes to pass along from an editor who has departed and "another staffer."
     So I call in for my rejection, but you start rambling about Augusten Burroughs and how his memoirs work, which is confusing because you didn't read my memoir. I am writing my memoir in fact. So I just keep listening to see where this is going, and you tell me, you probably should have someone's notes in front of you because you didn't really read much of my manuscript, but you are just insanely busy, so you're working from your memory about what was wrong with the manuscript you keep referring to as my memoir.
     Finally, I can't take it anymore, so I interrupt:  "Um," says I. "You asked to read my collection of published essays based on an essay that appeared in the New York Times, not my memoir. You didn't ask for my memoir. But what you read was a collection of published essays."
     And what do you say? You say: "Oh."
     Then there is an awkward silence in which I ought to have let you merely tread water, but I was too embarrassed and somehow co-dependent.  Embarrassed for me and you and publishing in general.
     So, I launch into some long rambling something (what the hell was I saying?) that ends with, "Who would really publish a book of published essays by someone who isn't famous anyway?" and "But really you are publishing some very nice works, and thanks for the consideration." (As my friend says, Aw, no, you made her feel better?)
     I did. And I shouldn't have.  But what, really, should I have said?
     I'm thinking of two not very nice words, but you guys can probably come up with something more creative.

     What would you have said?

What's Your Subtropical Opinion?

Dear Writer: Thanks for giving us the chance to read "Title." Although this piece isn't going to work for us, we like your writing and would welcome the chance to see more from you. Sincerely, Editors, SUBTROPICS

The submitter of this rejection asks you a question about this rejection. "I've gotten enough rejections from Subtropics to know that this isn't their standard version, however they've sent it a week after their submission period has ended.  I'd be crazy to assume they're inviting me to submit before they reopen, right?"  Please say what you think.

Writer's Relief? Or Agitation?

Annoying in a HuffPo-kind-of-way, or is it just me? Can't tell: 5 Signs That You've Made It As An Author

An Open Proposal to Secret Agent Man

Okay, mice, I'm hoping to put this chapter on biopsies and novels behind us.
     I had another biopsy yesterday with a different method, which was awesomely, eye-stingingly painful--shockingly so. But it seems they got a robust sample of cells, and if it all goes well, I can skip the hospital deep dig version of this test. It was no picnic, it took several practitioners to excavate, but it's over now and on Monday the cancer answer will be revealed. (By the way, the mathematical odds of my having cancer are very, very slim. I mean, super slim.)
     So I'm not worried, and I'm already moving on.
     You may think this is a cavalier attitude to take, given my lack of luck in most matters lately, but look at it this way, my chance of having cancer is even slimmer than my chance of publishing a novel in this climate. So, for now, I'm putting them both away.
     You can be happy to think of me quietly working on my juicy cultural memoir Daddy Dearest. (Just kidding, that's not the title.) My book is more of an attempt to figure out how disinheritance became my fate, a surprise delivered via a secret will.  (Who does that crap?) Did you know that only in this country is disinheriting a child a protected right?  The rest of the world finds it unthinkable.
     BTW, in regard to all this, I've been thinking about asking an agent friend, whom I call SECRET AGENT MAN, to represent the memoir. I'd much rather he get any money that might possibly be made on my career than any of the douches I've met over the years. Plus he's a super good guy, he knows about my blog and all my douchery, including stupid past decisions and dumb impatient ways. He represents very big memoirs, and he just started his own business.
     The question is: Will he take me on knowing what he knows about me? I would promise not to post anything he writes to me on this blog, unless he posts it himself. Maybe we could have a totally blog-worthy public relationship, communicating only via LROD, so others can see what an author/agent relationship is like.  Well, maybe that goes a step too far. But I do think this book at least stands a better chance of making some dough. It's got commercial appeal, it's got hollywood starlets, and it's got...me.

    So, what do you say, SECRET AGENT MAN? Will you take me on?

Dear Occupant...

What are the chances of getting accepted at One Story? Must be truly slim, no? Does anyone read One Story? it is supposed to address our ever-shrinking attention spans and be something you can read while on the subway...in New York City, I guess.

Dear Writer: We appreciate the opportunity to read your work, but unfortunately this submission was not a right fit for One Story. Thank you for trying us. Sincerely, The Editors of One Story

'Nough Said

But is it real? Backstory says yes.

From Today's eBag

Hi Mr. Literary Rejection: Just thought you might wanna know, I received a copy of the latest Bellingham Review (didn't win anything last year, didn't even place) and I read Jacob Appel's "Bait and Switch" which won the Tobias Wolff Award in 2010. Honestly, I was unimpressed. Depressingly this was a rather pedestrian piece of short fiction. Think Judy Blume's "Summer Sisters" meets early Neil Simon only much duller. I don't even think it would have made it into one of the many short story anthologies I had to plow through in college as a liberal arts undergrad. I think this short story winner sort of re-affirms my suspicion that the whole literary anthology awards thing is just a shell game for MFA candidates and other suckers. Sincerely, [Name Redacted--We're anonymous around here]

p.s. I kind of liked Appel's piece.  What do you think?

Good Writing = Good Book?

I've had the pleasure of being rejected -- or maybe I was actually ignored -- by this esteemed editor. Yes, now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure he never got back to me after agreeing to read my manuscript. Anyway his words sure do seem like the quote of the month to me. How about you? How do you interpret this? Agree or disagree?

Thinking About the Future of This Blog

Here's a serious comment from a reader: "Showing us more (and more) rejection slips has been done to death, w/r...This site has lost all energy. It's so polite and placid." Is this dude right? Have I lost my edge? It's confusing because I started the blog to make myself feel better and then I continued it because people said it made them feel better. But maybe my time is run out. Certainly, I am no longer the only one posting rejections on the world wide web. And I think it's true that when I'm revising my novel, I lose a little bit of steam to fuel the blog. It's a good question for discussion. Is it time to pack it in? What you guys honestly think, and not just all the positive answers that are meant to be nice to me because you are nice mice? I'm looking for objective opinions.

Coffee-Stain-Police-Violence Rejection

So much craziness going on in one little rejection.  I am tempted to point out all the fun here, but I think I'll let you mice have at it.  What do you see? Let's rorschach that coffee stain!

What Do We Think of This Dude?

In this interview, Stephen Markley claims George Bush wrote him a note about his book, titled Publish This Book. The premature author also says: "Some chapters are about me drinking, cussing, and fornicating, so I had to do a lot of hands-on research for those. Other chapters required more reading. For instance, when I went to write about the publishing industry, to try to understand and articulate what young writer’s face when they try to publish, I wanted to get as many perspectives as I could. In a way, that kind of research is more fun: attempting to distill a piece of the world into a thoughtful but entertaining little mid-book essay. It’s like fornicating with your mind." I don't know, dude. I mean, really, is there anything that's really like fornicating with one's mind? It sounds all a bit puerile and like a big put on, doesn't it? I mean, consider his attempt at promoting the book. Or maybe I'm just not that kind of a guy's guy/gal/person. What say the mice on this topic? Has anyone read this book?

Update: Smoothing the Ruffle

Had a little ruffle with Agent 99 after delivering the new-to-her information that my novel had been seen by a few other editors a while back. She seemed unhappy with the news, but I described to her the previous plot line (so very different from current) and the fact that it had gone out under a different title, and I got this note back: "No worries -- it does sound very different, and I don’t think it will be a problem." Things in publishing have heated up, so she needs some more time to read the newest revision; she hasn't gotten to it yet.  You know, micicles, I'm going to have to stop reporting her every word on this blog. It's starting to feel a little uncool because she doesn't know about it, and I'm developing a relationship with her. I can tell you that I do not relish telling her about this blog, but will probably have to at some point feel like I must. Or maybe I will need to close it down before long, assuming it has had its day and run its course. Any opinions about how to handle this?

A Penny for Your Critique

Should writers pay for book reviews?  Why not, we pay for everything else.

Urgent Question: Author House

Hey, yo: Can you mice please chime in on the following question before Thursday? We need to help this dude figure out what to do re: self-publishing.
     Dear Writer Rejected: I received an offer for a potential discount (~ 200 pounds) if I sign up for a self-publishing package by this Thursday (29th July). Is this really a wise idea for me? I want to be published; I've read of success stories, but I don't want to spend money, not receive any profit, and particularly not have any sort of exposure. I don't want to be swept in amongst the waves of nameless authors. This UK company has an impressive reputation (AuthorHouse). I was just about to send my synopsis and query letter to the Caroline Sheldon Agency. What's your advice? I've got until Thursday to take advantage of a very generous discount. Thanks, Anony-mouse

Keep The Agent Focused

Here's a little Q&A email from a reader.  Thought it might be of interest.

Q. My manuscript caters for young adult/ mature children, so I've found a good children's literary agency. However, my genre varies, as I also write horror, thrillers and occasionally plan to attempt philosophical drama. If a children's/young adult's agency is willing to represent my first work, will they be willing to represent such radically different genres? Should I even bother to query these genre specific agents, or should I look for a more general one?

A. In my experience, agents have little pea brains, so it's best not to distract them with too much of your magnificence.  One letter = one message seems to work best.  You can add a general statement about your other works, but keep the focus on your Y/A book.  If all goes well, and your horror/vampire/fantasy book needs representation, maybe your Y/A agent will help you find the right person to rep that project too.

Anyone else want to chime in with an opinion?

What One Writer Wants in a Rejection

Jane over at LeafStitchWord Blog has a wish list for rejections that goes like this:

• No thank you. This still feels like a draft to us.
• No thank you. This doesn’t fit with our editorial vision or sensibility.
• No thank you. Honestly, we are overloaded with stuff right now, and your essay did not grab us on the first page, so we didn’t keep reading.
• No thank you. This is potentially really interesting, but it’s too long for what it is.
• No thank you. We really prefer to publish the Under 40 and Fabulous Crowd, and this is not that.

What's on your wish list?