A #Retrospective on #Blogging, Or Why All These #Literary #Rejections Are Important

Something occurred to me this morning: totes random, for sure, but still worth sharing. For years on this blog, smart alecks from all corner of the InterWebs told me that I should stop blogging (read: complaining, moaning, bitching, and whining) and get back to writing my opus. The sentiment behind the dig was: "Why do you spend ALL this time blogging when you COULD BE writing."  I consistently rebuffed the implied insult by saying, "I spend plenty of time writing, thank you." And in truth, I am always writing to deadline for my paid consulting gig as a medical writer, and in my spare time I am always writing as fast as I can on my own creative projects. How else would I have a published a book of short stories (okay, granted: when I was a mere child of 28) and then a published novel (okay, so I'm slow: nearly twenty years later when I was 47) not to mention the collection of linked stories coming out in the fall?  I barely even dare to mention the unpublished book of essays no one wants, the nonfiction travel book at a silent retreat and spiritual journey that I can't get any traction on, and the book about being disinherited that is kicking my ass: I'm on version 5 and I STILL don't like it (That's right: version five; tone is everything in this book, and I'm getting closer, I think.) So, yeah, I write plenty. I happen to be fast at it, even though the publishing has come slowly.  And also, here's something I learned recently, all those years of so-called "wasted blogging hours" (that someone was always pointing out to shame me) WERE contributing absolutely to the ultimate success of my so-called literary career. I mean, people LOVE a literary genius (if you happen to be one, which I am not) but they don't come looking for you, and they surely don't let you sit around and be brilliant without dusting off the old dog-and-pony show and taking it on the road virtually and IRL.  So, in essence, though maybe the whole enterprise is pretty insignificant in the world of the written word, I don't regret a single minute I spent on this blog. Especially because--this is important--it is hard to find community and comfort and consolation as a writer, or just a regular person, in this culture. And I found that here with all the patchy, scratchy, and sometimes illustrious mice who came around to complain or boast or start a fire.  I really needed you guys on my darkest days, and on most of my light days, too. So, thanks, you all, for being part of LROD. Even the trolls who used to drive me crazy and don't come around any more.  I miss the days when blogs were relevant, and maybe they still are. Surely, I still come around to write a word or two here, even if you can find literary rejections and iterations of this dumb idea all over the floor of the Internet. I guess, you could say my work here is done in the initial sense of pulling publishing out of the closet and into the light a bit.  Or whatever the hell this is.  That's all for now.  Keep writing and plugging away and sending your work out and believing in yourself (even when you don't...and especially then) because before long you will look back and see that it amounted to something very important: your life. 

Originality & Impact: When Other #Blogs Rip You Off Without Knowing It #thievingblogs

You know you are a Sarah-Palin-style maverick when everyone blogs your content without giving you any credit. This is particularly amusing because the same originality is what makes it impossible (nearly) to get published these days. You anonymice all remember back in the day (2007) when we started this blog, yes? No one thought it was a good idea to post, let alone discuss, rejection letters. They called us names; they sent threatening legal notices; they wanted to shut us down. It was unseemly for an artist to air her dirty laundry.  Now, not so much any more.  It is fun, expected, and entertaining--almost everywhere you look.  I suppose that is progress....or something.

Check out all of these:

Huffington Post
Mental Floss
Click Hole
Flavor Wire
The Atlantic
Thought Catalog
Business Insider
Buzz Feed
Esquire
The New Yorker
MSN
Reddit
Go Think Big
Bustle 
Open Culture

Plus, so many, many more....

I don't even really blame these dudes for not giving credit where credit is originally due. Who can go back that far when everything is an iteration of an iteration of an iteration of an iteration? There's a huge hunger for content on the World Wide Web, so much so that it's just like manufacturing cheeseburgers. People like to know exactly what they're getting, something they know pretty well already.  

#REJECTEDBOOKS.COM: A Call For Your #Rejected #Books (Sort Of)

Got an email from some enterprising young Swedish fellows, announcing a need for YOUR rejected book titles:

Established as well as unestablished authors from across the world are invited to contribute to the art project Bibliotheca Non Grata — an imaginary library of rejected and thus non-existent literature — with titles of their own literary works that have been rejected by a publishing house or an institution and thus have not been published.

We call for titles of rejected literary works in any language and of any writing genre, fictional as well as nonfictional. All submitted titles of rejected works will be included in the public online catalogue of Bibliotheca Non Grata. A selection of submitted titles of rejected manuscripts will be printed on the spines of 365 hardbound empty book covers—one for each day of the year—which form the physical representation of the rejected and thus non-existing literature which constitutes Bibliotheca Non Grata.

Titles can be submitted on the project's website, where you can also find more information about the art project.  Find out more on facebook. 

Bibliotheca Non Grata is a public art project by artist Måns Wrange and architect Igor Isaksson, commissioned by the city of Umeå in Sweden, in memory of journalist, activist and author, Stieg Larsson’s work for democracy and free speech as well as against discrimination and racism. The artwork Bibliotheca Non Grata will be placed in Umeå city library in the newly constructed and the Kasper Salin architecture prize awarded cultural centre Väven. 

A Question of #Literary #Awards and #Politics? #Lammys @lambdaliterary

One of the mice from a recent post (about Francine Prose's comment to me about being nominated for a Lambda Literary Award) had this to say about the value of literary awards:

One of your first impressions about Prose's reaction to Lambda was probably the right one. Namely that she--like most artists--resents being labeled a certain variety of author, or her book being slipped into an ordained category. Award committees and the general public tend to want to categorize--and who wants that? No author does, not when you're attempting to capture life in all its dramatic fullness. "Billy Budd, Foretopman" voted best Homoerotic Historical by Lambda. Oi, Melville would say. But isn't it so much more than that?

AND....

I think many women probably do resent being rewarded for being "women writers," in exactly the same way female physicians resent being lauded as "lady doctors." I love Alice Munro and Anne Beattie equally as much as I love Cheever and Nabakov. And my personal love and appreciation for the last two would be neither diminished nor expanded by their having won the "Best Anglo White Male Award" -- but for many other readers, it might. I think decent authors resent the opportunity for such narrowing and misunderstanding of their work being made possible by award committees. Such categories are fundamentally arbitrary. It's a far profounder compliment to praise an average book as good literature, than to award that same book as superb female or gay fiction. And it's easy to see why. The first is based on its merits as art. The second is sanctioned condescension. I think Prose is objecting to the implications of the award given her, and I don't think she has much choice in that. It's the principle at stake--her book and how its understood--not the award itself.

Thoughts? To view my responses check out the comments section here.

#AWP Conference Panel on Rejection! Remember When It Was Just You and Me?

When I first started LROD in 2007, no one was talking about rejection. Now look what we did! Look at all the mice, mice! This was the view from my side of the microphone this morning at the writer's conference session entitled: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Rejection (But Were Afraid To Ask). We've come a long way, babies.

Rejection from a Year Ago

Bad news: she didn't get the tingles:  

Thanks for giving me a peek at [title of manuscript]. I think it's clear that you're a wonderful writer, and I like the energy of your emails. But it comes down to this: In the end, I just didn't get the tingles about this one. And in this ultra-tough marketplace, I've got to be head over heels in love with something in order to take it on. I'm sorry I don't have better news, but I'm glad to hear you have others looking at it, and I hope someone falls in love with it soon. Best of luck, and take care. Regards, Danielle

Good news: someone else did, and it's going to be a book in November. Suck on that, fizzle.

We Don't Know How Old You Are, But You're Probably Too Old

One of the good doctors over at Psychology Today has put together this self-made "improved" rejection slip, which he suggests enclosing with submission manuscripts.  It's a nice idea: putting the manner in which you receive rejection back in your own control. Check it out; he has an article with some other thoughts for your consideration. In my opinion, there is plenty of room in the world for more psychiatrist/detectives!

The Finest Fuck-You Prose At the End of the World!

A letter from Norman McClean (author of the short story collection A River Runs Through It) to an editor at Alfred Knopf, after said company started come around to see if he might have a manuscript for them.  With thanks to anonymous for pointing it out in a post, and to Letters of Note:

Dear Mr. Elliott:
     I have discovered that I have been writing you under false pretenses, although stealing from myself more than from you. I have stolen from myself the opportunity of seeing the dream of every rejected author come true.
     The dream of every rejected author must be to see, like sugar plums dancing in his head, please-can't-we-see-your-next-manuscript letters standing in piles on his desk, all coming from publishing companies that rejected his previous manuscript, especially from the more pompous of the fatted cows grazing contentedly in the publishing field. I am sure that, under the influence of those dreams, some of the finest fuck-you prose in the English language has been composed but, alas, never published. And to think that the rare moment in history came to me when I could in actuality have written the prose masterpiece for all rejected authors – and I didn't even see that history had swung wide its doors to me.
     You must have known that Alfred A. Knopf turned down my first collection of stories after playing games with it, or at least the game of cat's-paw, now rolling it over and saying they were going to publish it and then rolling it on its back when the president of the company announced it wouldn't sell. So I can't understand how you could ask if I'd submit my second manuscript to Alfred A. Knopf, unless you don't know my race of people. And I can't understand how it didn't register on me – 'Alfred A. Knopf' is clear enough on your stationery.
     But, although I let the big moment elude me, it has given rise to little pleasures. For instance, whenever I receive a statement of the sales of 'A River Runs Through It' from the University of Chicago Press, I see that someone has written across the bottom of it, 'Hurrah for Alfred A. Knopf.' However, having let the great moment slip by unrecognized and unadorned, I can now only weakly say this: if the situation ever arose when Alfred A. Knopf was the only publishing house remaining in the world and I was the sole remaining author, that would mark the end of the world of books. 

Very sincerely, Norman Maclean

        (Source: Francis Burr, via Al Pinetree, via Letters of Note)

Sorry, No Take backs

This was sent to a writer who had already withdrawn the submission due to acceptance for publication elsewhere:

Dear Writer: We appreciate your willingness to entrust us with your writing. Unfortunately, we have decided that your submission does not meet our needs at this time. We do encourage you to continue submitting your work to us. Please check our website for upcoming announcements and submission guidelines. Best of luck to you in your writing life. Sincerely, The New Madrid Editors

Able Muse Attitude

There is nothing sweeter than to withdraw a work from submission because it has been chosen for publication elsewhere. It is one of the few business pleasures we writers derive from this muck. As I told the writer who submitted the below note from Able Muse, the rule on simultaneous submissions needs now become a thing of the past. Maybe that will make people read and respond a little bit quicker. Get with the times, people; no one is using that 20th Century rule any more.

From: "Able Muse Webmaster"
Date: March 19, 2012 12:31:08 AM PDT To:
Subject: RE: [Able Muse] Fiction Withdrawal - "Title" - Anony Mouse 

Dear Anonymouse,
As much as we congratulate for your acceptance, please note that our guidelines are clear that we do not welcome simultaneous submissions. If you’re also sending it somewhere else, please don’t submit it to us.
Best, …Alex

Eat That, Mcsweeney's

From an LROD reader:

Do you still want rejections from anonymice? Do you care anymore?*Last Friday I got an email from the folks at Epiphany saying they were accepting a story and that it was going to press Monday. Okay. Great. Wham, bam. I scrambled around to the various places I'd simultaneously submitted, trying to figure out the best way to withdraw the story. Turns out online submissions, which make submitting so gloriously easy, are not all so easily withdrawn. In any case, I sent an email to some virtual soul at McSweeney's telling them to please withdraw my story, and I was sorry, and all that...and not twelve hours later I got their standard rejection. How do you like them apples?!

* Of course I do. I care very deeply.

The Nasty Good-Bye

Here's a funny Slate article by Jack Shafer about a different kind of rejection note: the kind a quitting employee writes to his employer on the way out. Some funny highlights include:

• "It's been a rough few years here, mainly because of the jackasses in Chicago who own us. To them I say, with as much gusto as I can muster in an email, fuck you."—Dan Neil, upon leaving the Los Angeles Times for the Wall Street Journal, February 2010.

• "Jesus spent three days in Hell. … I could only handle one."—Richard Morgan, who quit Gawker.com after one day, January 2008.

• "Don't worry about me; I'll land on my feet. I don't regret coming here, even though I've been laid off now. In fact, my only regret is that you haven't come to visit the Beacon Journal. I would have loved to piss on your shoes."—Mark Schlueb in a letter to Knight Ridder CEO Tony Ridder, April 2001

1,983 Rejections: 3 Acceptances

Mary Bennett of Portland, Oregon has an installation of interest to us at 23 Sandy Gallery on May 20th. According to the promo material, the artists "examines the personal qualities of perseverance, deliberation, consistency and belief that were possessed by one woman, a poet and a dedicated writer. The unknown, anonymous poet believed in herself so much that she sent out 1,986 submissions to literary journals from 1973 to 1978, all recorded on yellowed and tattered index cards. As the cards document, she received 1,983 rejections and only three acceptances. Her dedication is the inspiration for Mary Bennett’s exhibition, which includes the found index cards, which will cover the gallery walls plus a re-creation of the poet’s imagined writing studio." Can't find a link to the show yet, so I'll keep looking and add, so everyone can read the rejections.

From The Mailbag

From an LROD reader:

Every once in a while when I am catastrophically bored, I will respond to junk mail and subscription requests from journals with this note:

Dear Respected Journal: While [my first and last name] found your offer intriguing, he was not sufficiently taken with the offer to actually subscribe. In these challenging economic times, [my first and last name] is forced to pass on many fine publications, but reserves his subscription budget to those that are actually interested in printing the kind of high quality fiction and evocative poetry that [my first and last name] writes. Good luck with placing this offer with a more suitable client. Sincerely, The Management

Save Us Marc Jacobs

Looks like books are breaking out of Borders and Barnes & Nobles and busting into other trend-worthy places, Like Marc Jacobs and Anthropologie. Frankly, I wouldn't care if some stores sold my book as a fashionable accessory, as long as they sold it. (Oh, yeah, and as long as I finished writing it first, and my agent liked it, and she wanted to sell it, and an editor liked it and got approval from his/her publisher to buy and market it, and it got a good distribution, and someone reviewed it, and then the stores sold it fashionably, but you know what I mean.)

So You Want to Write a Novel

This is who gets published instead of you. Courtesy of a nice mouse who sent me the link.  My favorite line is:
Q: "I assumed you've used a steak knife, right?"
A: "Of course."
Q: "Do you think you're qualified to perform neurosurgery?"
A: "Ha, ha. That's funny. I might base a character on you."
Q: "So do you think that being able to read and write in your native language qualifies you to write a novel?"
A: "How many editors will Random House assign to my novel?"
Q: "Minus 13."

Rejection Correction

Ha!  This dude is really getting his revenge in South Africa, right? Mmm, not really. But it is vaguely amusing.

Personal Agent Rejection -- FACE!

When my former agent, who quit the business, started having personal public exchanges with all her other former clients, I got all weirded out about it and ended up having to delete her as a "friend" from my Facebook page.  Why I ever thought it was a good idea to be "friends" with an agent, not to mention my former agent, I cannot say.  But I do know this: it's a mistake I will never make again.

When Bad Books Happen to Good Readers and Good Writers

Bad Books? 40 of them with an interesting commentary about what "bad is" (i.e., an overrated "good" book, poorly written, terrible authorial outlook). Favorite quote from the article:  "One mark of a great writer must be the willingness to write a bad book." And here's more on bad writing.  It appears to be today's theme.

As Long As You Had Fun, We Forgive Your Sarcasm

Over at the BookEnds, blagent Jessica  writes a rant about some poor rejected writer who allegedly sent an angry email to 400 publishing professionals, his/her rejecters! Now that takes cajones. I would like to know (a) who wrote that email (come foreward; this is your home), and (b) who were the 400 publishing professional recipients (someone: leak us the note at writerrejected at aol dot com; we won't tell anyone from whence it came.).  What fun!