Tag Archives: rejection letters

The Gap

I’ll always remember when I sent my first query letters. It was two Winter Olympics ago, Vancouver 2010 – I distracted myself from my inbox by watching Johnny Weir and Evgeni Plushenko, and watched my first rejections roll in a few minutes before alpine skiing.

(I took a shot of vodka for each rejection. I realized a couple of weeks later that 1 shot per rejection was quickly becoming unrealistic.)

It was my third manuscript, but the first one I deigned may be good enough to take that next step. I got five requests for more material out of 79 queries. The first full manuscript rejection was maybe one of the kindest I’ve ever gotten to this day, the first time an industry professional ever called me ‘talented.’ And I remember how excited I was that I’d worked hard enough to trick someone into using the t-word.

Because I was, by this point, painfully aware of the gap that existed between the story in my head and the story I was putting down. I knew I wasn’t naturally talented, but I was going to make it up by wanting this more than anyone else, and hopefully that would be enough.

Eight years later, I sent another round of queries. This was my seventh manuscript. My last agent search had taken three years.

This time, it took three weeks. Responses came fast. Rejections still came faster, but form rejections were few and far-between – they were personal, they were complimentary, and the t-word was used over and over again. It was incredible. It was like all of my most self-indulgent daydreams rolled into a one-month period.

And it was weird as hell. I’d spent so much of my career feeling like I needed to catch up, and suddenly, like a switch had flipped, people were treating me like I was there already. I still kind of felt like I was tricking people. But it occurred to me, an entire eight years after that first rejection, that the people reading it couldn’t tell what was natural talent and what was hard work. On the page, it looks the same.

Progress isn’t always a thing you can track, especially not when you’re so close to it. But sometimes after a particularly good session, when I look at the scene in my head and the scene I just typed, I don’t feel the shortfall quite so keenly. Sometimes it even feels close.

Now, I’m watching a new set of figure skaters and alpine skiers dominate the Olympics. I’m working through an edit letter I’m thrilled about. And I’m catching up to the story in my head, bit by bit. I’m not watching my inbox, not yet. That comes, with any luck, later this spring.
I haven’t completely bridged the gap yet. But now I’m not sure anyone ever does.

That is, however, what revisions are for.

It’s been such a pleasure contributing to this blog over the past year. Congratulations to our new 2018-19 fellows, and happy writing!
-Rebecca Mahoney, 2017 WROB Fellow

You Came Close–What to Do With Your Personal Rejections

My writer friends and I have been talking a lot lately about the nature of submissions, and more specifically about personal rejections and how much encouragement we take from them. Where academics expect feedback on the papers they send out for publication and often get the chance to revise their work based on their peers’ recommendations, the creative writer sending out unsolicited work rarely gets either.

I recently went through my “personal rejections” folder and found encouraging messages, and even some helpful revision advice, that I’ve received over the last decade, from which I assembled the following collage. This one goes out to all of the editors out there doing the good/ hard/ important work, and especially to those who (every once in a while) make time to add an encouraging note to an otherwise canned response.

                                     you came so close

and

                      Although

                         I really enjoyed what I read

and

                                         This is excellent work.

and

You have command of your audience.

and

                                                      Your story is a powerful one

                     we have decided against using

your work

            this piece

                                                your recent submission.

Although we’re passing on this group of work

and

                We regret that we are unable to publish it.

I’d like you to keep me posted as your writing career develops.

Though

                we found your work engaging,

we appreciated the theme

we found the work to be strong

              we were interested

                                         We enjoyed your story

We’re going to have to pass

                                   your piece

didn’t fit the narrative voice that has developed for this anthology

and

         does not meet our current needs

and

we couldn’t find a place for it in this issue

and

                                                                     the story may be longer than it need be

Though

we wanted to let you know that we read it with more than the casual amount of interest,

that your work in some way caught our eye.

We admired many aspects of your piece

and

                                     We appreciate the hard work

and

                                    We appreciate the efforts

and

           several of us read it and remarked that we felt that it was deftly written

and

                                  we’re intrigued by the writing,

and

                                 we enjoyed reading your story

Though

                      we’re going to pass on it

Unfortunately

and would like to encourage you to send us more writing soon

and

                   would be glad to see more of it.

While

                                                          in the end we have decided against publishing

you

                                                                  we

regret that.

submit again.

                given the volume of submissions we receive,

even quality work often has to be declined.

Unfortunately

          submit again.

                         I wanted you to know that out of

             649 applications

                              nearly 800 entries,

                                                                more than one thousand entries,

Your writing has surpassed hundreds

         that yours was one of thirty-one manuscripts

was one of the eight finalists.

and

                                                                           it made our final round for this volume.

I hope you will be encouraged

Our readers and judge thought very highly of your work,

and it was not an easy decision

You

             came close.

                                Please submit to us again.

 

-Jonathan Escoffery, 2017 Ivan Gold Fellow