The post that had to be written
Every time I've thought about a blog post in the past 5 days I wanted to write about the rejection I received last week from the interested agent. But I hesitated each and every time. The fear, criticism, that is the writer's life, and the blog-or-not-to-blog-about-rejection debate kept me from writing about it. Each and every time. So, I didn't write at all (used my travels as an excuse) or I avoided the topic entirely. Why did I change my mind?
Well, one of the reasons I started the blog was to write about the unpublished writer's life. The writer who writes into the wee hours of the morning, holds a day job, and is a mother, and WANTS to write fiction novels for a living. And how can I do THAT when I don't write about the hard parts of writing? Or the rejection that inevitably comes with writing fiction? I mean, you want the whole story right? The fun parts and the shitty parts?
I didn't want to whine. Or bitch. Or even offend someone that might read the blog and be considering my work. But, with clear conscious, I think we as a writing community need to share the rejections outwardly as much as we share our accomplishments (THE calls, the publication dates, the cover mock-ups)--because I know for fact there are a helluva lot more of us unpublished writers than published, so why not share our stories. And again, I was stunted but the whole blog or not blog debate I've discussed previously in this very blog. I mean, should I discuss (or probably more appropriately say vent) about my rejections? Is that kosher?
Kosher or not, I am going to. I mean, for whatever reason THIS particular rejection has hurt more than the 20 or so others I have received (yes, you read that right... I reported I have gotten rejections! GASP.)
Let me give you a little background. When you try to become a fiction writer--like me and the thousands others--you are told in every form of wanna-be-a-writer literature you can find to EXPECT rejections. And the fact the rejection is NOT personal--it is a personal decision. Rejection just is. Relish in it--since it is a subjective business. A feeling. Someone can just not like it and reject it. It is a fact of life as a writer and get tough skin. What do I say to that? Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. I mean that in the utmost highest respect. Really. I mean the statement in and of itself is very true. YOU ARE GOING TO GET REJECTED. I am not denying it, nor am I saying that you can circumvent it. It happens.
The part I have a problem with is the "Get over it" mentality. More specifically the "Get over it and move on" because you know what-- sometimes you CAN'T. Or maybe I should say, I can't. At least this time. I need time to process it. To think about it. To decide if I STILL want to write day in and day out and steal time away from my family to do it. Those in the Get-over-it camp would argue that since I have to think about whether I want to write anymore--then I am not a true writer. And again, I would disagree. Everything we do in life is a gamble, and I am trying to figure out if I want to fold or stay in the game. It shouldn't be a matter of how thick my skin is to criticism or rejection.
Why did this rejection hit home? I am not sure. I can speculate that it had to do with a few variables: this agent had ASKED for more verbiage and then was told to trim my words, I had just spent 4 days in writing deadline type hell to get it done, I was getting sick, in the rejection there were comments that my grammar/style weren't up to a professional level, comments were too similar to the creative writing professor I admired in college that told me I will never hold a writing career ("You can't write worth a damn!"), and, all in all, I *thought* I had made the book better with my latest changes--but apparently not.
But after 5 days, I know it came down to one thing-- DOUBT. After surviving rejections in the twenty-something range, I never once doubted I could write a novel. Never. But with this one rejection, I am now doubting I can write at all. And why I have given so much power to this rejection? I respected the rejectee? I thought I had a chance? I thought this might be it? I am not sure exactly... I just know it stung.
This writing thing is an uphill battle. I can understand why an agent and/or editor needs to make snap judgments based on synopsis' and first chapters otherwise they would have reams or paper to read through for each and every submission to determine if that writer is worth taking a chance. But WHAT IF the good stuff is not in the first chapter? Does that make the person non-eligible for a shot at the big time? I mean, how many stories have we heard in book acknowledgements or interviews where the editor found a way to make the opening paragraph work? Or found my first chapter?
Cause, really, I am frustrated. I have never been told my writing was shit in a rejection before. And after 20 or so rejections (with at least 12 of them with personal notes to me), you'd think someone might have mentioned an apparent wordiness and purposeful ignorace of some grammatical rules. Then again, this is something I always worry about, have always been harped on by college professors, and always, always hindered me from submitting my work before now--my bending of the adverb use. And over use of commas. So, I guess you could say, this agent, hit a personal sore spot. And it hurt. And I am trying to recover.
And praying that the editor that is looking at the book as we speak--reads past the first chapter (because after at least seven re-writes I still can't get it right) and would take a chance on a not-yet-published, but totally willing to rework anything, kinda gal.
Well, one of the reasons I started the blog was to write about the unpublished writer's life. The writer who writes into the wee hours of the morning, holds a day job, and is a mother, and WANTS to write fiction novels for a living. And how can I do THAT when I don't write about the hard parts of writing? Or the rejection that inevitably comes with writing fiction? I mean, you want the whole story right? The fun parts and the shitty parts?
I didn't want to whine. Or bitch. Or even offend someone that might read the blog and be considering my work. But, with clear conscious, I think we as a writing community need to share the rejections outwardly as much as we share our accomplishments (THE calls, the publication dates, the cover mock-ups)--because I know for fact there are a helluva lot more of us unpublished writers than published, so why not share our stories. And again, I was stunted but the whole blog or not blog debate I've discussed previously in this very blog. I mean, should I discuss (or probably more appropriately say vent) about my rejections? Is that kosher?
Kosher or not, I am going to. I mean, for whatever reason THIS particular rejection has hurt more than the 20 or so others I have received (yes, you read that right... I reported I have gotten rejections! GASP.)
Let me give you a little background. When you try to become a fiction writer--like me and the thousands others--you are told in every form of wanna-be-a-writer literature you can find to EXPECT rejections. And the fact the rejection is NOT personal--it is a personal decision. Rejection just is. Relish in it--since it is a subjective business. A feeling. Someone can just not like it and reject it. It is a fact of life as a writer and get tough skin. What do I say to that? Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah.
The part I have a problem with is the "Get over it" mentality. More specifically the "Get over it and move on" because you know what-- sometimes you CAN'T. Or maybe I should say, I can't. At least this time. I need time to process it. To think about it. To decide if I STILL want to write day in and day out and steal time away from my family to do it. Those in the Get-over-it camp would argue that since I have to think about whether I want to write anymore--then I am not a true writer. And again, I would disagree. Everything we do in life is a gamble, and I am trying to figure out if I want to fold or stay in the game. It shouldn't be a matter of how thick my skin is to criticism or rejection.
Why did this rejection hit home? I am not sure. I can speculate that it had to do with a few variables: this agent had ASKED for more verbiage and then was told to trim my words, I had just spent 4 days in writing deadline type hell to get it done, I was getting sick, in the rejection there were comments that my grammar/style weren't up to a professional level, comments were too similar to the creative writing professor I admired in college that told me I will never hold a writing career ("You can't write worth a damn!"), and, all in all, I *thought* I had made the book better with my latest changes--but apparently not.
But after 5 days, I know it came down to one thing-- DOUBT. After surviving rejections in the twenty-something range, I never once doubted I could write a novel. Never. But with this one rejection, I am now doubting I can write at all. And why I have given so much power to this rejection? I respected the rejectee? I thought I had a chance? I thought this might be it? I am not sure exactly... I just know it stung.
This writing thing is an uphill battle. I can understand why an agent and/or editor needs to make snap judgments based on synopsis' and first chapters otherwise they would have reams or paper to read through for each and every submission to determine if that writer is worth taking a chance. But WHAT IF the good stuff is not in the first chapter? Does that make the person non-eligible for a shot at the big time? I mean, how many stories have we heard in book acknowledgements or interviews where the editor found a way to make the opening paragraph work? Or found my first chapter?
Cause, really, I am frustrated. I have never been told my writing was shit in a rejection before. And after 20 or so rejections (with at least 12 of them with personal notes to me), you'd think someone might have mentioned an apparent wordiness and purposeful ignorace of some grammatical rules. Then again, this is something I always worry about, have always been harped on by college professors, and always, always hindered me from submitting my work before now--my bending of the adverb use. And over use of commas. So, I guess you could say, this agent, hit a personal sore spot. And it hurt. And I am trying to recover.
And praying that the editor that is looking at the book as we speak--reads past the first chapter (because after at least seven re-writes I still can't get it right) and would take a chance on a not-yet-published, but totally willing to rework anything, kinda gal.
