
“The birth of the reader must be at the cost of the death of the author”
- Roland Barthes
True? Is this why it sometimes feels terrible to let a book go on the shelves? Discuss.
Staff writer Robert J. Hughes wrote an article called "Randomness and Rejection," in the WSJ, explaining how a chapter in Leonard Mlodinow's book The Drunkard's Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives describes a number of big-time writers whose early works were, at first, rejected by publishers. "Many books destined for great success had to survive not just rejection, but repeated rejection," Mr. Mlodinow writes. "There exists a vast gulf of randomness and uncertainty between the creation of a great novel...and the presence of huge stacks of that novel...at the front of thousands of retail outlets."
Author Brian Falkner wrote this funny rejection and presented it at a bookrapt seminar talk entitled "Birth of a Novel--Rejection -- Redemption -- and the Road to The Long White Cloud" in 2007. Writes Bookrapt: "Brian's first attempt at becoming a published writer was with a children's book. It was rejected.His second attempt was a psychological thriller. It was rejected. His third attempt was a short story. It was rejected. His fourth attempt was a play. It was rejected. His fifth attempt was a screenplay for Shortland Street. It was rejected (before it was even written). His sixth attempt was a romance novel. It was rejected. His seventh attempt was a screenplay for the NZ Film Commission. It was rejected. His eighth attempt was a screenplay for a James Bond movie. It was rejected. And he was threatened with legal action for using the James Bond character. His ninth attempt was a novel for young adults. Scholastic rejected it. Harper Collins rejected it with a full page letter telling him how appalling they thought it was. Mallinson Rendel LOVED IT!!!"
Not that I'm promoting smashwords.com, but I have to say, it's an apt banner ad. These guys should advertise on LROD, right?
Here's a good one from our friend James Viscosi, who has the good manners to post his rejections, and allow me to say something witty and clever about them at LROD. Unfortunately, this one is so uninspiring that nothing comes to mind. Hop over there, though, to see what James himself has to say about this rejection; it's entertaining.
Got this secret missive in the email yesterday: "My friend has an article in next month's Writers Digest. Turns out that your friend, appel, has a snippet in the next Writers Digest as well. It's called "The Art of Entitlement" wherein he claims that the trick to selling stories is clever titles, no more, no less. Figures." Well, that's advice of a different stripe, isn't it? Would that literary success were so easy.
Since we've been taking a stroll down memory lane, remember Eyeshot? This dude keeps a running tally of rejections that's totally worth checking out on a regular basis. Amazing. Here are my two faves (the others are pretty asinine, which I mean in the best possible sense):
Remember these charmers? Anyway, I'm in a fugue myself this Monday morning. Traveling and groggy and preparing for a very sweaty day. I can report, though, that two more agents are reading my novel at the moment. These two came via two contact, as I find myself no longer too proud to ask for help. Maybe that's good. Maybe it's a sign that I'm sinking.
In an article about accidental emailing by J Samia Mair in the Baltimore Muslim Examiner, the author admits this chilling blunder: "Many years ago, I forwarded my husband a rejection email from a literary agent. He sent me a conciliatory email—a very short reply consisting of one, not-so-flattering word describing the agent. The problem was that instead of sending the email to me, he sent it to the agent. His blunder was only discovered by her reply to him. Oops! Let’s cross out that agency for all future queries." Anything similar ever happen to you?

It's like I always say: the smaller the better. Wouldn't it be cool to receive a rejection on the postage stamp of a blank postcard?
What's that little Five Points bear carrying? A dead turtle? Does that symbolize the death of my publishing dreams? And why is the font on their website so small? Just wondering.
I don't know. I've heard that a lot of writers are putting their projects on the shelf and waiting until the book market does something else because apparently no one is buying very much of anything. So, I'm thinking about putting it on the shelf and starting a new book. What do you think, people? Here's the latest rejection: "It's with some regret that I write to say that I won't be taking on [your novel's] representation. You are a really talented writer and there are some gorgeous moments in the book. But with the market for fiction as incredibly tough as it is right now, I just can't represent anything that I'm not wildly passionate about. I liked your novel very much, but I didn't love it and it didn't resonate with me on a deep level. I truly believe that you will find someone who will click with it in just the right way; you're such a good writer and you have an interesting, quirky, distinctive story to tell. Best best best of luck and warm regards...rejecting agent"
So, how do you suppose Melanie Gideon, the Jerry Seinfeld of memoirs, here, got Jordin Pavlin at Knopf, who will not give most writers the time of day, to publish her book? "Dear Ms. Pavlin: I'm sending you my book, which is about ennui $150.00 hair cuts, and a happy marriage. It's called The Slippery Year: A Meditation in Happily Ever After." Not only did Pavlin take the book, but she helped restructure it into something viable. And they call things quiet these days to discourage publication. I don't get it. Or maybe I'm just jealous (of Gideon's magically happy life and bubbly sense of humor about it), which is not very generous, is it? The reality is: some of us get shit (abuse in childhood, disinheritance in adulthood, inability to get published) and some of us are Melanie Gideon.