Your Spec Manuscript, Mr. Spock

I don't actually think that Spock is in Deep Space Nine, but you get the idea.  Don't come around here again without your WGA-registered agent.

Ready For Your Manuscript

Every place probably has a pile of rejections just like this. It offers a different perspective, doesn't it?

The New Yorker Admires You

Hold the presses! There's been a change in the old gaurd. New New Yorker Rejection language has been spotted in the field. A loyal LROD mouse sent this in:

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider your work. Much as we admire it, we regret that we are unable to carry it in the magazine. Warmest regards, The Editors

Take That Picture Down!

A variation on the theme. Seems like overkill to me. And, I don't know, is the daughter of the President a private citizen?  I guess so.  But, come on, Osso Bucco is just saying.  (Delicious by the way. Have you ever eaten there?)

Well, That's Real, Real Nice...Sort Of

I'm getting into these music rejections. They feel related to my own rejections, but distant enough to give me some perspective. For instance (and I paraphrase): "It was real nice. It fell short on melody. It ain't going to lead to a breakthrough. I pass." What can you do? (Rewrite the music, I guess.)  Me? I'm rewriting the novel again.  I had an actual breakthrough last week about the nature of the story I'm writing; how it's one story in the end, not two.  That's always good to know. Oy. It only took a decade and change to pull it back together into one story.  Oh well, at least I'm breathing, and God gave me something to say and the computer on which to say it. That inspires a little gratitude.

The Golden Age of the Blue Copy

This is a fun piece of history. Remember the smudgy blue copy under the formal typed page that you kept for your files? Remember when editors told you optimistically to try MacMillan or Random House, as if you might just pick up the phone and say, "Hello, Random House, have I got a book for you!"

Double Neg Pretentious: Not Without Merit

This irritating rejection says it formally:  "While your proposal is not without merit, we are forced to give serious consideration to the realities of the publishing marketplace when deciding which writers to represent.  In order to maintain the quality of service our clients deserve, we must regrettably decline to take on some authors from time to time."

Rejection from the Age of Sweeping Change

It's a hard era to get things sweeping, isn't it? Especially change.  Anyway, the big O's peeps sent that money right back without cashing or depositing. Ever read any of Obama's  books? Wonder if he ever got any literary rejections. Doubtful. He's a good writer. Anyway, he certainly seems to be well-read in fiction and history. A good model for the rest of us.  He's also big on forming his own messaging based on that of past winning presidents. Hope it works for his re-election.

Words to Live By (?)

"Champagne for my real friends. Real pain for my sham friends." Can't even imagine.

Do Not Send Anything Else....Please

Not exactly literary, but don't you wish you wrote greeting cards instead of novels? A nice form rejection with a mean final exclamation: "Please do not send any further designs!" I guess that's pretty clear

That'll Make Your Blood Run Cold

Here's one sent in anonymously. Simple, but probably true: "Sorry, we do not publish first drafts." (Zing, beyotch!)

It Just Takes One

So poetic. One yes in a world of no's.

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!

Salutations!

This one was sent in by an LROD mouse. So I don't know its origin, but it's a chipper little note offering "greetings," as in I bring you greetings of joy and glad tidings. (Or something; I may have that wrong.) But, anyway, not really. Stop trying to fool us. It's just another rejection:

"Greetings! Thank you for the opportunity to read your work. We're sorry to say that after careful consideration, we have decided not to publish your submission. We do wish you the best of luck placing it elsewhere, however, and with all your writing endeavors."

I'm Taking to My Bed

Peeps. Agent 99 got back with encouraging words about the direction, though her take away message is that we're not there yet. I need to make the whole thing work. That is to say that some re-imagining must take place in order for the novel to work in harmony as a whole. Got to find a way to spread the magic evenly and in a well paced way. Not easy, I know. Lots of thinking off the page to make it work, plus it's hard for me to see it all clearly at the moment. Such a game of time, this writing is: we are either waiting for someone to get back to us, or we are waiting for inspiration to occur. Anyway, for today, I'm taking to my bed to try to dream a cohesive entity into being. It's a snow day. I'm stumped. Plus I stuck a rusty drill bit tool (I guess technically it's an ice pick) into my hand, made a crazily sickening puncture wound, and had to get a tetanus shot yesterday; today it feels like my arm was used as a punching bag. I think maybe I was trying to kill myself the slow, hard, drill-bit way, or else I'm just insanely accident prone lately: I'll spare you the details but I've fallen, smashed the side view mirror on my spouse's car, and lost my cell phone about 700 times this week alone. Just one of those times when it all goes wrong-ish. Luckily, nothing serious, just annoying. So, anyway, I'll let you know how the novel-imagining goes. I told 99 that I would need a solid year of working to make it happen. Again, time, right? Well, mice, what the hell else would I do with myself in 2011? At least I have a focus and a meaningful task ahead. What about you?  What literary torture/nirvana are you creating with your year? Got a plan yet?