The other day, my friend, justin_pilon, put up a post about submission blunders, which brought back embarrassing memories of my first ever query letter.
I wrote it soon after I finished the first draft of my YA novel, Fur-Face. I was keen to share my genius with the literary world and, since I’d already run it through the spell checker, I knew my book was ready.
I’ll spare you the gory details of what was a truly dreadful pitch. Suffice to say it would look quite at home in any agent/publisher’s collection of ‘How to guarantee no one will want to read your book, or ever hear from you again’ letters.
I did at least know enough to enclose an S.A.E. The response came back within a few days. I remember thinking this was a good thing, since it showed someone had read the three chapters I’d enclosed and was keen to take a look at the full ms before I offered my book to some other lucky agent.
The rejection letter – I know, I was surprised too – was also a classic.
An obvious bad photocopy of a bad photocopy of a bad photocopy, the paragraphs ran at a sloping angle from left to right, with the letters somehow smudging into each other at the end of every line, as if someone had moved the original document in mid-copy. The name, JOHN GUBB, was scrawled across the top in big red capital letters.
The wording, though a little hard to make out, was quite polite. It contained (what I later learned was) the usual, ‘Thanks for thinking of us’, ‘Not exactly what we’re looking for right now’ kind of stuff. Nevertheless, even with my limited experience of the publishing world, I couldn’t help wondering if there wasn’t a smidge of sarcasm about the whole thing.
As you can imagine, I felt pretty sorry for this poor John Gubb bloke.
He must have done something awfully dumb to warrant such treatment. I rang the agency to let them know there’d been a mix-up. It was only when the nice lady who answered the phone explained that the rejection was, in fact, for me, that the truth sank in.
I remember feeling a complete fool. Later, my embarrassment turned to disbelief. I wasn’t hurt or offended, I was shocked. How could they not want my novel?
Looking back, that first rejection was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. It made me realize that I had no idea what I was doing, and that if I ever wanted to be a writer, I’d better jolly well find out how it was done.
I’d forgotten all about that letter (and the ensuing rejection) until I saw Justin’s post yesterday. It made me smile.
After all, it’s like my dear old gran used to say. “You might as well laugh at your stupidity, boy. Lord knows, the rest of us do.”
How about you?
Do you remember your first ever rejection letter?
What was it for? How did you feel? Did you change your ways as a result?
- Current Mood:
determined
Comments
I'd forgotten all about those old photocopied replies.
However, I couldn't get past the mechanical aspects (in this case, grammar, sentence structure, and style)...Other minor problems: inconsistent use of paragraph breaks; problems with punctuation / capitalization in sentences containing dialogue; some awkwardness due to the effort to conceal the sex of the intruder... I think the hiding-the-intruder's-sex factor may have also led you to use passive verb constructions where active ones would have been cleaner and more effective...
Needless to say, I've improved since then, but I don't know if I planon sending in another short to them. I'm still too embarrased. :(
A writer once offered a tip on making rejections easier. Always have multiple stories out there. Then when you get one back, you have hope still for the others. And you can get that one revised or resubmitted before the next rejection comes in. I think it actually helps. Either that or there are some things you just get used to and move on. :)
After all, it’s like my dear old gran used to say. “You might as well laugh at your stupidity, boy. Lord knows, the rest of us do.”
I love this. I apply it all the time (though it's probably unfortunate that it's needed so often).
I don't remember my first rejection letter, but I do remember the BEST one I ever got. The man tore my manuscript to shreds, bit by little bit. It was, without a doubt, the most helpful thing that's ever happened to me as a writer. I got a three page letter back from him, detailing everything I did wrong--and that was only for the first 50 pages! I learned so much about what I didn't know about writing from those three pages. It hurt to read--but I learned, I fixed. It was a turning point for me.
As for my grans and their pearls of wisdom, I'd say they were more like Mother Teresa and Ghengis Khan (sorry Nanny Greta) :)
George sent me this nice rejection, letting me know that a good idea did not a story make. On the second rejection he compliment the concept and explained about serial commas and run-on sentences.
Edited at 2009-07-11 03:35 pm (UTC)
This was when I was still in high school and I had to use Writers Market. Needless to say there really wasn't all that much in the way of Fantasy Markets, so I mailed it off to F & SF, because I thought they would be more likely to accept a fantasy story than Asimov's.
For some reason I think it came on light blue paper. It had a list of reasons why they rejected stories. Mine had an ( X ) in two spots. I think it was Does not stand above the other submissions at this time and something else which I forget. May have been a comment about the POV character being an antagonist.
Sadly, I didn't recognize my own stupidity back then (despite this same story coming back from another market with the comment "too slow, not enough story"), and the story later sold with no changes. And then it sold again, and again, and is the title story of my first collection, due in late 2009...
After that, I stopped reading too much into rejection letters, even sarcastic ones. Different things will appeal to different people.
Care to share your first rejection story?
My favorite rejection story to date is my mother's. She has written a series of stories about growing up in rural Vermont in the 1930s, which have been published monthly in a local paper. The readership and feedback has been good, so several years ago she decided it was time to collect them and turn them into a book. She did all the right things--sent samples and wrote a cover letter, etc. She was completely devastated when she received a very nice personal rejection letter on her very first submission. It basically said, this is an interesting concept, one that has merit, but as it currently stands, it isn't a book. (It wasn't.) It was the sort of rejection letter I would have been thrilled to receive at that point in my career.
P.S. She is now shaping the columns into a book. We'll see what happens this time.
I think the feeling we get from finishing a story, is similar to the one we get when we hear some great news. It fills us with a desire to share it right away.