Rejection: Part 1 (of 2,538)

I think it was George Plimpton who said he knew a writer who wallpapered his bathroom with rejection notices. Lord knows I have enough rejection notices to wallpaper my entire 995 sq ft condo. Back in the day, when I used to query like a naive idiot, I got the standard rejections, with the impersonal “We’re sorry, but this is not right for us” and the agency’s stamp. I got better and learned to cherish the rejections that came with a handwritten note, something along the lines of, “Your writing is great, but the story isn’t for us.” That, for me, was a success.

You would think I’d be desensitized to rejection by now, but I’m not. It’s still just as painful. I’m in the midst of beginning a search for a new agent. I’m bracing myself for the rejections. I’m prepared for them to be vague and unhelpful in content, succinct and blunt in nature. I tell myself I know what’s coming, so it will be easier. But, it’s not.

These days, rejection slips don’t come in the mail. They come through e-mail. I used to get pleasure from opening an envelope — savoring those few moments of uncertainty, daydreaming of an enthusiastic first line that says, “This is the greatest book I’ve ever read.” Maybe there would even be an exclamation point. Of course, I’m referring to a time when I was naive and had yet to realize that there is nothing uncertain about an envelope. It’s not like the college admissions process. If an agent likes you, she’ll call.

Anyway, now, I just open my e-mail and there it is — a quick note from the latest agent to read AWOL:

Hi Kim,

Thanks so much for sending along AWOL to me for consideration. It was great to have the chance to connect with you.

AWOL is a really interesting book. Your writing is terrific, and there are a lot of great details here. And yet, I have to admit, sadly, that I ultimately found that I just couldn’t get as into this as I would like to when it comes to fiction. All the good elements are there, but I had a hard time fully embracing the premise, and our protagonist. And given that this has already been shopped around a bit, I think I should step aside. However, this is totally an issue of it not speaking to me personally, and I have every confidence that you’ll find an enthusiastic agent. Please know I wish you ALL the best, and was pleased to have this chance to take a look.

Warm wishes, and shall cheer you from here.

I wrote AWOL years ago. My heart isn’t really in revising or revisiting it. I’m happy with it. I guess I’m the only one.

This is the point when I want to quit, give up, forget about this silly publishing dream. What’s the point, anyway? The stories satisfy me most when I’m writing them. Everything that comes after is either icing on the cake, or a pain in my ass.

So, I come to the familiar place of asking myself what the next steps are. Since writing AWOL, I’ve written another novel. I was convinced it was brilliant after the first barf draft but, after reading it again, it needs work. A lot of work.  Maybe I’ll throw my eggs in that basket and see what comes of it. As much as I hate to admit it, I want to be published. If it’s not the time for AWOL, we’ll see how it goes with Cherry Blossoms. I’m sure this will inspire several posts about the tedious process of revising… Stay tuned.