Kelly Spitzer is hosting a discussion of rejection slips, critiques, general loves/hates of the publishing process. It’s so cool to see how these discussions are opening up the process for everyone, allowing authors to peek out of their isolation and editors to drop the editorial mask a bit. First round goes to the authors; the follow up will be from the editors. Some highlights:
Matt Baker: When the comments are specific and sincere, then it is welcomed. However, generalized remarks about a story needing to be “tightened” or “revised” or “edited” are a waste of time.
Jill Barth: Overall, I do think writers want to feel that they are worth more than the average form rejection. Editors might benefit from a bit of courting and polite comments to make their rejection letters feel a bit cozier. Writers will likely feel respected and continue to submit to such editors.
Martin Cloutier: Editors read hundreds of stories from all levels of writers. The opinion of anyone with that kind of experience is valuable and illuminating. That doesn’t mean you have to take their advice, or that editors are always right; but it’s important to know how industry professionals interpret your work.
Clifford Garstang: When I get a form response back (often a badly photocopied, badly cut out, tiny slip of paper), I still don’t know if the story has been read. It doesn’t matter what the slip of paper says; no printed form can convince me that my story was read by an editor or even an intern. They are all completely without credibility. A form rejection with minimal ink—“Thanks” scrawled at the bottom, or initials, or an actual name—is an improvement over the naked form rejection because it is solid evidence that someone other than a monkey or a robot opened the envelope containing my submission. My impression that my story might have been read, or partly read, by a human being, is strengthened. And thus I begin to feel a real connection with the world, a connection I don’t much feel when I get a plain, no-ink rejection.
Because, after all, it’s that connection that I crave.
Stefani Nellen: Overall, I value a timely response before all else. Hit me with a form reject, as long as you stay within a three-month feedback window. If I go on Duotrope and see “181 day form rejection from Lazy-Ass Review” I roll my eyes.
There are many more comments in the post itself. It’s very interesting: some authors like comments, because at least it makes them feel as if an actual human read their story; others don’t want comments at all, particularly if they are unconstructively negative. This comes up more than once — apparently there are some sad editors out there who have plenty of time to write hostile, discouraging comments on their rejections. Several of the writers don’t find much value in critiques of rejected stories. They have other sources of feedback that are more helpful to them.
All in all, the remarks dispel the myth that writers are sensitive bundles of raw nerves, crushed by every rejection. At least this group sounds pretty sturdy.
(Via Perpetual Folly)
Filed under: authors, blogging, writing Tagged: | editors, Kelly Spitzer, rejection
I’ve collected 13 rejections of my novel (represented by a top agent, who’s sent it to the big houses–Simon & Schuster, HarperCollins, and Farrar, Straus & Giroux, et al). All rejections have been gentle, professional, and flattering, reflective of the respect editors have for my agent. They say, eg, “Thank you for sending me (title) by (my name). [She] is a talented writer and she created a beautiful portrait of the South prior to civil rights movement. I thought that (character) was a great narrator and I was touched by her relationship with (character). While I enjoyed reading this novel, at the end of the day I didn’t completely fall in love with this story.” I can’t argue with that. Another editor gave me a thorough, detailed, and helpful review; I revised my ms. accordingly and the book is better for it.
I’m saddened by rejections, but they are generally positive and often helpful; only one has stung–from a literary publisher who kept the manuscript seven months, then said it wasn’t “fresh enough.” I received a hurtful rejection from an author (not an editor) of four novels; eventually I was able to laugh about it, but it was the unkindest cut of all.
Note: the ONLY form letters I’ve received were from agents, early on; some came in on slips of paper a couple of inches wide, multiply photo-copied. Insulting!
I’d love to hear of the experiences of others.
Thanks for the comment, emersondell. You highlight a contrast between the short story writer’s experience and that of novelist; if a novel is championed by a good agent, it will get not only a thorough critique by the agent, but also a gentler reception by editors. Short story writers are more on their own. Of course, the rejections are no fun for either.