What are you doing reading this blog? Haven't we made it clear that we don't WANT your kind checking in on us, looking over our shoulders, making us feel uncomfortable? Do you really think we post every day for YOU? Go read some other mystery blog, and leave us alone!
This point was driven home rather forcefully last week (which for many reasons rivaled that wondrous moment I was mistakenly told I probably had lymphoma for worst week of my life), as I saw rejection from two separate fronts: My daughter was not accepted to some of the colleges to which she applied (I hasten to add that she was accepted elsewhere), and a book proposal I had worked diligently at for some time failed to impress the editors who read it.
Eve's reaction was immediately emotional, and then quick acceptance that this was the way things were, and she'd move on. Mine was less glandular at the outset, but bore a little deeper. I'm moving on, but only because I've learned an important lesson from my daughter.
Writers are supposed to have thick skins; it's a survival device we're supposed to develop because we're going to be exposed to so much rejection. But the dark secret we never mention is that the thick skin is, for most of us, a role, a facade, something we put on to show that we can persevere.
And we can. Quite often, we do. That doesn't mean it won't sting when someone reads a piece of our minds and says, "not what I'm looking for."
Rejection makes the success better; that's true. If we do sell the next proposal, the next book, the next story, having gotten back up off the mat and tried again feels that much better. But it doesn't make anything easier.
I'm not arguing that editors or publishers aren't sensitive enough toward authors; it's their job to accept the writing they can best market, and if that happens to coincide with their personal taste, more to the better. But the bottom line is the criterion. And that's the way it should be. Nobody wants publishing companies to start releasing books they know they can't market, lose money, and go out of business.
I certainly understand why the proposal my agent was shopping wasn't accepted. It was something I would read, but not something that easily falls into a clearly delineated category. Who's the audience? I can't say that I'd be able to identify them. Where would it be shelved in the bookstore? I have a better idea there, but I don't know that I can picture the cover. No, it would have been a quirky sale, at best. If I were an acquiring editor, would I have bought it? I honestly don't know. That's not my area of expertise.
Every editor worth the title will tell a writer to work on stories that will get the creative juices flowing. Write not only what you know, but what you care about. Don't write with an eye toward the market, because if you write something for yourself, others might find it interesting. If you write something for others, you won't find it interesting, and that means you won't write it as well.
So where does that leave me? With another idea, one I think can be better. I'll start working on it this week. Which, just according to the law of averages, has to be better than last week.
Vinyl-to-Digital update: Last week, as might be expected, did not see much LP conversion going on. It was almost exclusively devoted to the career of Sir Paul McCartney, which is indeed a checkerboard experience. With highs like Band on the Run or Tug of War, there are excellent songs that shine a light on what made a quarter of the Beatles great. Then you hit something like Wings Wild Life, and you wonder exactly what this pop music genius might have been thinking. You want John Lennon to rise from the grave and stand over his shoulder, saying, "work harder."
One quick observation: For someone who will proclaim to the heavens his dislike of live albums, it's amazing how many I have. And Wings Over America is an especially sloppy, disconnected, perfunctory affair. Three albums, padded out with side issues like Medicine Jar and much of Venus and Mars (including Medicine Jar and Magneto and Titanium Man)? In this case, having bought the package, I have to wonder what I was thinking.
I really have a better idea what an author goes through after spending x amount of time developing an idea then being told it won't sell. Your positive outlook is uplifting - good for you! AND good for your daughter on her upcoming collegiate endeavor!! Btw, great looking beagle :D
Posted by: autmflwr@gmail.com | March 29, 2010 at 07:48 AM
Endeavor to persevere.
Posted by: Jonathan Quist | March 29, 2010 at 08:23 AM
Nice.
Posted by: Theresa de Valence | March 29, 2010 at 09:47 AM
Jeff,
I like your attitude and I admire your daughter for moving on there are days we don't feel like it but we all have to move on and start with a fresh perspective.
Pamela
Posted by: Pamela James | March 29, 2010 at 10:58 AM
If you're like me, you aren't just suffering rejection, but also mourning the thwarted life of the book not sold ... no one else will read it! Pool little story!
Your attitude is admirable ... and may your next proposal be both exciting for you and marketable for your editors.
Posted by: Wendy Lyn Watson | March 29, 2010 at 11:03 AM
Hi Jeff
Strangely enough I had my literary endeavours rejected last week as well. Nothing like the creative output your book no doubt is but a grant application for our disability services. It does hurt especially when you know others are counting on you too.
Thankyou for writing about your experience. And so well ;-].
Posted by: Fiona Marsden | March 29, 2010 at 06:30 PM
>you aren't just suffering rejection, but also mourning the thwarted life of the book not sold ... no one else will read it!
Hey! Associate Editor here! I'll read it. Just say the word (pun intended).
btw, That's a nice looking bagel. Did you mean to say something about how dogs make you feel better? They do, you know.
Posted by: Deni Dietz | March 29, 2010 at 07:47 PM