An Agent Writes In...But Not My Agent

A good-humored agent sent me the following correspondence, which consists of the agent's rejection, followed by a rather snarky response from a rejected writer (not me, friends).  A little advice to you all, keep your snarkiness here at LROD, rather than pointing it out at the agents of the world. It is a teeny-tiny world out there. We should aim to keep a little decorum....no? Just a bit of unsolicited advice.  Here are the samples:

AGENT'S REJECTION: Dear ______: 

Thanks for the query but I'm not the right agent for you.  I found your writing style a little too stiff for me to feel I could find you the right publisher.  But I wish you much luck connecting with someone who doesn't share my reservations. Signed, Secret Agent

REJECTED WRITER'S RESPONSE:Thanks for your considered reply. 

I would have preferred a plain, flat rejection (your first sentence would have been sufficient).  Your added effort to say “ a little too stiff” without any further explanation leaves me with more questions than the answer/s of a simple rejection. 

Regards, 

______.

[BTW, If there are other agents out there who would like to send in similar case studies anonymously demonstrating how not to respond to rejection...or better yet, how to respond to rejection, we welcome you warmly. Keep the examples coming.]

Isn't The 9th Letter "I"?

Dear Writer: Thanks for submitting your work to Ninth Letter. We're sorry this submission wasn't right for us. We appreciate your interest in our magazine, and wish you the best of luck placing your work elsewhere. Sincerely, The Editors, Ninth Letter

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

Dear Loser...

Yowsers:

Someone found this on Flickr and sent it in. It says: Dear Loser, Thank you for sending your demo materials to Sub Pop for consideration. Presently, your demo package is one of a massive quantity of commendable material we receive every day at Sub Pop World Headquarters, and is (due to time and volume restrictions) on it's way through the great lower intestines that is the talent-acquisition process*.  We appreciate your interest in Sub Pop and wish you the best in your pursuit.  Kind regards, * This is a form letter. The letter is what is known as "a rejection letter."

It Was the Worst of Times. It was the Worst of Times.

Here's an interesting little ditty from GalleyCat about why not to pitch your book, bug your agent, approach your editor, or basically breathe in publishing this week.  Hmm....very interesting, Dr. Lockhart!

Passing The Time

There has been some apt suggestions in the posts lately that I'm wasting my time waiting for Agent 99. In previous years, I would have agreed and become antsy, but my new philosophical and Zen self thinks that things are how they are supposed to be. (Believe me I am plenty antsy, just not going to do anything about it.) Call it too much yoga. Call it a life of dysfunction and denial that has served me well. Besides, I have yet to have the experience where I actually have any control over these matters. Can I make her read it any faster? No. Can I pressure and be a dick about it? Sure, but I'm not much of a dick so that doesn't interest me. Can I send it elsewhere? Oh, please. What's the point? I finally found someone who loves this book, and if she's a little slow, so be it. Maybe that seems passive and lame, and maybe it is. I'm working on faith here, people. I've got to let it unravel on its own.  In the past, my attempts to hurry things along have been futile, frustrating, and sometimes detrimental to my own purpose. In other words, I only tend to fuck things up.  So, I'm sitting back and working on my paid work, and writing a memoir that tries to unravel the mystery about why I was disinherited. Interesting topic: Did you know that the U.S. is the only country where disinheriting a child is even possible--legally and morally. In most other cultures, it's considered a moral outrage. King Lear, anyone? So, that's what I've got on this Friday of Labor Day. I think I'll just wait it out and do whatever I need to do to get by. It's kind of like recovering from heartbreak: it doesn't really matter what you do to fill up the time, as long as the time passes.  That's the key to it.  Eventually, something else happens.

Here Comes the Sun

So many words for one little standard rejection:

Thanks for sending us your submission. We're sorry to say that it's not right for The Sun.This isn't a reflection on your writing. We pick perhaps one out of a hundred submissions, and the selection process is highly subjective, something of a mystery even to us. There's no telling what we'll fall in love with, what we'll let get away. We rarely respond personally to submissions, as the number of manuscripts we receive makes this difficult. We're aware that 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. We wish you the best in placing your work elsewhere. The Editors P.S. We've returned your work if sufficient postage was included. If not, we assumed we could recycle it.

Glad they recycle.

It's My Birthday today

Wouldn't it be great if Agent 99 wrote me today to say that she loves my novel rewrite and wants to send the manuscript out to publishers next week for a fresh, crisp start to September? That would be my birthday wish. That, or world peace. Or maybe just a simple hope that everyone out there from the Eastern parts of the U.S. did okay in that hurricane. I don't know. I lose perspective sometimes. Maybe it doesn't matter so much if the thing gets published in my life time. Maybe the sheer fact of writing it is good enough. One thing's for sure: This writing life is testing my patience.

Form Letters that Raise Hopes (For A Little While)

 Dear -------, Thank you for sending your manuscript "XXXXXX," number ---- to us here at Crazyhorse via the online submission manager. Ultimately, the manuscript was not selected for publication, but we want you to know that we very much enjoyed reading your work. The manuscript was one of the best we've read recently. It was difficult to say no. We hope you will send us another manuscript to consider soon. Since we enjoyed this one, we hope to read more and to give your next manuscript our highest consideration. Yours, The Editors

[Comment by the receiver of this rejection: "I'm thick-skinned, but this one that was emailed on Saturday really got to me. I'm still at the stage of my career where I judge my successes by the quality of my failures-- and this was really just so unbelievable. When I first saw it, and for a half hour thereafter, I felt elated. And then I just got depressed. I couldn't write for maybe twelve hours. I just kept berating myself-- which is silly, no?-- but when you're butting your head against a brick wall, it's your head that suffers most."]

Viewer Call-In Question Time

Someone commenting on the blog wants to know:

Are you guys submitting your stories with cover letters? I never do unless it is explicitly asked for, but I wonder how many more acceptances (or nice rejections) I might get if I mentioned 3 little letters. Le sigh.

Answers, anybody?

'Nough Said

But is it real? Backstory says yes.

So, No Problem Then...

Hey, did you hear that the book industry is alive and kicking? Speaking of yesterday's Atlantic rejection, there's this recent article in said magazine that quotes a study that:

"...the publishing industry is healthy and growing during a time of unprecedented change... Publishers in every sector of our business have made significant investments in content and technology to better serve their audiences' needs and those efforts seem to correlate with the results we're seeing."

Elsewhere

Though your manuscript has not found a place with The Atlantic, we thank you for the chance to consider it. Best of luck placing it elsewhere. The Editors

Wrote the mouse who received the above rejection:

"I am really starting to hate this whole "best luck placing it elsewhere" thing. It's like one of those terrible breakups where they REALLY HOPE you meet someone...who really deserves you." 

Personally I don't try for The Atlantic anymore. I think of it as one of those dreams that the world quickly rips from your heart, replacing it with something more realistic, like war and poverty.  It's probably true that I have about as negative a chance of getting in The Atlantic as in the You-Know-Where.

Revise for Us!

I regret that these structural flaws prevent us from making an offer on [Title]. However, if you are willing to revise the manuscript, we would be interested in taking another look at it.

It's always tricky to know when to revise for someone. These people don't even tell you what they want, so that's either good or bad.  Not sure which is better.  The question is always whether or not to go down this path.  It's hard to remain confident after getting a note like this, but I always send it out to many places before taking it back and thinking long and hard about what to do next.  Sometimes, a revision is called for.  Other times you stick to your guns.

Funny, I'm Always Thinking of Opium

Thank you for sending us "Title of Story." Sorry to disappoint--as we really enjoyed this piece--but we didn't feel it was quite right for Opium Magazine. Do send us your next, best work. Thanks for thinking of Opium, (Editors)

Your next, best? Why yes, by all means, do.
BTW, headquarters location is in Brooklyn.
The very, very formal part of Brooklyn.