Tag Archive for 'rejection'

Gatekeeping

Posted August 9, 2010 by Gabrielle Tags: , , , .

In this new world model of publishing, the traditional gatekeepers — editors, agents, publishers — are finding themselves in a slightly different position. Self-publishing is on the rise, and anyone dissatisfied with “the system” can choose to detour around the gates and the gatekeepers entirely. But that does not encourage the gatekeepers to abandon their posts; quite the contrary, in fact.

Over at Black Gate Magazine, my friend Peadar Ó Guilín explains why the gatekeepers are still with us, and why they’re important.

As a gatekeeper, I can tell you that there is a vast sea of fiction out there that is fantastic, but it’s a drop in a larger ocean of work that is unpolished, not self-aware of the fact that it has flaws, and just not ready to be published. It’s unfortunate that the writers who pen great works are the ones who are self-conscious of their writing and are more prone to be the ones to wonder if it’s good enough, while the ones who have the longest way to go are sometimes the most blind to that fact.

The gatekeepers try to add balance and perspective. Getting rejected is frustrating, but sometimes it’s for a writer’s own good. Working with the system and improving to reach that bar requires learning, dedication, and talent. Bypassing the system perhaps seems easier, and in rare cases it can have good results. But in the long run it isn’t necessarily best for the writer (who loses out on a chance for professional advice and guidance) or for the reader (who must wade through more quantity to find quality).

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Slush Metrics

Posted May 6, 2010 by Gabrielle Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

Editors and agents reach a certain point in their slush-reading careers where a quick glance at a query will tell them whether it’s worth reading onward.

You start to learn a certain set of warning signs, over time. For example, you learn after reading lots and lots of submissions that a query letter riddled with spelling errors and misused punctuation will usually accompany a submission with the same sorts of problems, and will be indicative of a would-be author’s lack of attention to detail. Therefore, if you see a query letter that looks like it was typed in the dark, you can expect that the manuscript is going to require a lot of extra work.

I don’t decide on correlations like that arbitrarily. They’re observations I’ve made based on lots and lots of data points. And the more new data I receive, the more they’re continually supported.

Other editors and agents have written about the sorts of problems they see in manuscripts and queries, and their reasons for rejection. Look at the posts from:

Colleen Lindsay and Janet Reid at FinePrint Literary
Betsy Mitchell at Del Rey
Rachelle Gardner at WordServe Literary
Tor editor Teresa Nielsen Hayden (see especially #3), and
Jessica at BookEnds, just to name a few.
And I’ll even include my own post from Dragon Moon’s open submission period.

Really, read these posts. They’ll teach you a lot about what editors/agents see and why they reject what they reject.

The more I work with submissions, the more I’ve noticed that they filter down, mostly, into a very simple six-point system.

Ready? Here it is.

0 – “Ow, ow, my eyes!”

    This speaks for itself. It’s the stuff that horror stories are made of. Spelling, punctuation and grammar so badly lacking that the text is just about indecipherable, or worse, a narrative or plot so seriously flawed on so many levels that indecipherable would be an improvement. This either gets a form rejection because there’s absolutely nothing appropriate that I can say, or it gets a gentle recommendation to work on writing skills.

1 – Sigh of disappointment.

    Weak voice, weak writing skills, weak narrative, wooden characters, or weak/flawed plot. Heavy-handed, contrived, too slow to get moving, or just not well thought out. Not scary-bad, just not strong enough for publication.

2 – Eh.

    Nothing stands out about these manuscripts at all. They’re not deeply flawed, but they’re unremarkable. Sometimes the plot has been done too many times before in the same way, sometimes the language is too bland. There’s no interesting voice, no particular style to it, and just nothing special that stands out about the characters, the plot or the writing to set it apart and make me want to know more. Submissions that just don’t fit our requirements (length, genre, target market age, etc.) go here, as well.

3 – Aw.

    Now we get into the top three rankings. Most submissions will already have fallen by the wayside before this point. “Aw” manuscripts have potential — there’s some spark that sets them apart from the “Eh” manuscripts — but they don’t quite get there. I want to like it, I see the seed of something interesting in it, but the spark never quite catches. Maybe there’s a neat premise that just isn’t executed well, or an interesting plot twist that comes too late after a reader will already have lost interest. Or there’s a good voice and pleasant writing style, but the plot is deeply flawed in ways too complicated to be easily fixed. Basically, there’s something compelling about these, but whatever it is, it’s lost amidst other problems that overwhelm the strengths. “Aw” is disappointment. These are the ones that I want to love, but can’t.

4 – Ahhh.

    Where “Aw” is disappointment, “Ahhh” is relief. It’s the sound I make when I start reading a manuscript with good, engaging writing, proper technique, an interesting premise and engaging characters. I’ll ask for a full on an “Ahhh,” to see where it’s going and determine whether it lives up to the promise that it shows. Sometimes it won’t, and it’ll get bumped down to an “Aw.” Often, though, it will.

5 – Oooh.

    This doesn’t need an explanation, does it? “Oooh” manuscripts grab me on the first page and don’t let go. They have it all — engaging voice; a strong writing style that’s technically clean, polished and error-free; an immersive world and characters; and a premise and a plot that keep a reader turning pages. These are the submissions that I end up falling in love with. I request the full already knowing that, barring some unforeseen turn of events, I’m going to want to acquire it. These are rare, but they’re what I hope for every time I open a submission. I want to say “Oooh” and fall in love with every book.
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Lone Star State of Mind

Posted April 22, 2010 by Gabrielle Tags: , , .

What’s more disheartening to a writer: a rejection letter or a bad review? Both can crush your spirit if you let them. The trick is not to let them.

Tastes are subjective. If they weren’t, we’d all like the same things and there wouldn’t be a wealth of different genres out there to appeal to different audiences, or a wealth of publishers in each genre all looking for slightly different things.

It’s easy to read a rejection from a publisher and think that it says, “No one will like this.” Really, what it says is, “This isn’t for me, at this time.” It’s easy to read a bad review and think that it says, “You’re awful and your publisher was wrong to take a chance on you. And also, you probably smell.” Really, all it necessarily says is, “This isn’t for me.”

If you have been published, you can be confident that your work is good enough to be published. Publishers generally know what they’re doing and have certain minimum standards of quality. People, meanwhile, have individual tastes. They may have higher or lower standards. They may require some certain elements, or require the absence of others, or their tastes may be swayed by personal circumstances or the other media they’ve recently been exposed to.

I was speaking yesterday with the author of a mystery, who said that X number of readers thought that his handling of the reveal was perfect, and Y others thought that he didn’t give enough clues, and Z others complained that he made it too obvious. You can’t please everyone, and you shouldn’t feel pressured to try.

I’m going to divert for a moment, with a disclaimer: This isn’t to say that every manuscript is flawless. If that were true, I wouldn’t have a job. But consider the source and evaluate critically when you receive critique. If your editor or your agent tells you that you have technical issues (plot, grammar, pacing, worldbuilding, point of view) that’s one thing. If the issues are matters of individual preference, it’s okay to stay true to your vision and explain why you’ve done things the way you have. You’ll find that an editor will either work with you to make your vision come across more clearly in the manuscript, or that their vision won’t align with yours. Be as open to their reasoning as they’ve been to yours, and then make your choice: trust someone else’s judgment (with the knowledge that their guidance could make the manuscript stronger), or hold out for an editor or agent who sees things the way you do and agrees with your choices.

So, okay. For the sake of argument, we’ve established that your book is as good as it can be. Your publisher raves about it, your editor loves it, and your legions of fans are plucking it off the shelves faster than it can be printed and telling their friends how great it is. Maybe it’s even up for some awards.

Once you’ve moved past the opinions of publishers, editors and agents, and on to the opinions of readers and reviewers, your window for second-guessing is over. There is no going back and changing things based on the feedback that you get. You have a finished product, it’s out there, and people will think of it what they will.

Some will like it. Some won’t. Some may even have good reasons for not liking it and strong, constructive critique regarding the aspects they don’t like, or may point out the flaws that you knew were there but didn’t know how to fix. Even then, incorporating the advice that resonates with you into your next project and moving forward is all you can do.

What one person particularly liked about a work is probably the same element that another person hated. It has awful worldbuilding; it has great worldbuilding. Someone likes the way the characters are named; someone doesn’t like the way the characters are named. Someone likes the use of magic; someone else thinks there’s too much of it, or too little, or that it ‘doesn’t work that way.’ All you can do with those sorts of reviews are chalk them up to personal taste and let them roll off of you.

Or, someone loves the book but gives it a kiss-of-death single star just because it isn’t available in hardcover, or because the online store they bought it from messed up their order and didn’t deliver it. Yes, your overall rating can be lowered over issues that have nothing to do with your book at all. You have to let that roll off you, too.

Look up opinions of any classic and you’ll see a mix of good and bad reviews. In fact, do that: look up Amazon reviews (since they’re nicely collected) for some of your favorites, and for some classics, and for some books you hate. People will disagree with you, they’ll agree with you, and they’ll be on the fence. Some of them will have gotten something completely different out of the same book or movie; they’ll have missed the point by such a wide margin that they’ll make you laugh. (One review of This Is Spinal Tap complains, “If you’re going to make such an excellent documentary, why make it about about a band that nobody has ever heard of?”)

Here are a few posts to get you started. Click on them, shake your head, roll your eyes, and laugh. You’ve earned a good laugh. It’s okay — I’ll wait.

* One Lonely Star – by Walter Jon Williams
* Lone Star Statements – from The Morning News
* You Can’t Please Everyone – from Get Cynical

Now look at your own reviews, and you’ll be able to take the voices of dissent a lot less seriously. And you have to. Creative taste is subjective and you’ll never be able to produce something that everyone in the world will like.

I know it probably sounds like it’s easy for me to say, since I’m not the one putting my name and my words out there for the masses. Even as an editor and a publisher, though, my ego gets wrapped up a little in the books that I work with — and a little more than that when I’m the one who’s made the decision to offer a contract and champion a manuscript.

So, listen to John Scalzi, because when he talks about his own one-star reviews, he says it, too:

I think it’s useful for all us writers to remember no one work pleases everyone, and you can’t make anyone like it if they don’t, and you can’t keep them from telling other people what they think of it, even if they hate it… and that’s fine. Learn to deal with it. Otherwise it doesn’t matter how much success or praise or satisfaction you earn through your writing, you’ll still obsess over those one-star reviews and it will eat away at your joy. That’s no way to live.

So: own your one star reviews, don’t let them own you. And once you own them, let ‘em go. You’ll feel better, and you’ll worry less about them going forward. Try it for yourself. You’ll see.

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Slush Rush Wrap-up

Posted January 25, 2010 by Gabrielle Tags: , , , , .

Initial responses have now been sent on all the queries I received during the Dragon Moon Press open submissions period. If you have not received either a rejection or a request for a full manuscript, I did not receive your query. Make sure you check the address posted in the submission guidelines and try again.

For a relatively-unadvertised submission period during a month that’s usually hectic for everyone, the volume was encouraging without being overwhelming. It was a great experience and I’ll definitely be doing it again.

    The useful stat breakdowns:

Full manuscripts were requested on just under 10% of submissions. Out of that 10%, I am making an offer to one (1) so far. (Yes, that one knows who they are.) I have not yet received or read all requested fulls.

About 25% of submissions did not comply with the posted submission guidelines, with deviations including (in order of frequency): submitting to the wrong address, lack of synopsis, lack of title (oops!), lack of sample pages and use of attachments.

No submissions were rejected for non-compliance. That is to say, I didn’t receive any queries that would have been accepted had they followed the guidelines more closely; the submissions that did not follow the guidelines had other issues which made them unsuitable.

    Reasons for rejection, in descending order of frequency:

1. The writing simply wasn’t good enough – Mediocre writing or storytelling, wooden and uncompelling characters; consistently poor grammar and sentence structure, etc. Just not at a publishable level.

2. Major plot flaws too deep to change – The premise was deeply flawed, too predictable or overused without offering anything new or notable, wasn’t compelling, or went in a direction that I didn’t think worked.

3. Too slow to get started, or so heavy-handed at setting up a plot that it all just felt contrived and sloppy – These submissions had fifteen pages to get me hooked and make me care. If nothing happened in those first fifteen, I wasn’t interested enough to keep going, and a customer wouldn’t keep reading, either. There’s some overlap here with #1, but sometimes the story can still be flat and not go anywhere even if the quality of the writing is good.

4. Too similar to something already published. OR, used characters or worlds copyrighted or licensed to someone other than the author, or otherwise contained inherent rights issues – Don’t try to get your fanfic published, kids, unless you’re trying to get it published by whatever company officially licenses it.

5. Not a fit. Non-fiction, true crime, gratuitous torture, sexual torture, sexual slavery and gore, mainstream fiction, spy thrillers, mysteries, and bodice rippers.

6. Good, but not quite there yet. Show me the author’s next one.

    The not-so-useful stat breakdowns:

(Trends that had no bearing on acceptance decisions, but are interesting to note)

* Genre breakdown:

    54% fantasy / dark fantasy
    26% urban fantasy
    15% science fiction / speculative fiction
    5% outside DMP’s range (non-fic, etc.)

* Gender breakdown: 40% female authors, 60% male.

* Manuscripts utilizing real historical figures as main or important characters: 5

* Manuscripts previously released as podcast fiction: 4

* Manuscripts that compared themselves to Twilight: 3

* Demons and angels were more popular than vampires by a margin of 4:1

* Manuscripts featuring gender-swapping or other body-swapping: 2

* Abrasive or insulting queries: 2

* Manuscripts with prologues: 20%

* Manuscripts submitted in languages other than English: 1

* Countries represented: 10 — a very respectable showing!

Thanks for participating, everyone, and keep writing.

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Dealing with Rejection

Posted September 24, 2009 by Gabrielle Tags: , , , , .

We all have a deep-seated need for closure in our lives. We like to know why people have made the choices that they’ve made, whether we’ve done something wrong to bring about that choice or whether acting differently could have somehow changed the outcome.

In the absence of answers, we tend to analyze situations and come up with answers of our own. We rationalize events around us all the time, to the point that we don’t even notice ourselves doing it. If traffic is slow, we tell ourselves that there’s road construction up ahead, or maybe there’s been an accident. If someone’s late for an appointment, or doesn’t answer the phone, we come to an internally satisfying conclusion about what might be occupying them.

In the absence of an explanation, we also tend to try to read too closely between the lines of a form rejection letter. No reason is given, but there must have been a reason, so we rationalize and analyze and come up with our own.

I acknowledge that, I empathize with it, and I send out form rejections anyway. I stand by it.

1. It’s kinder to dump someone outright than to lead them on.
Do form letters deprive writers of the constructive criticism that might make their work better? Maybe. But if I’ve already decided I don’t want it and that nothing you can change will make me want it, I’m not the one you’ve got to make it better for. If it’s close enough that I’d accept it if a couple things were different, I will tell you. But I won’t suggest changes that might make it less suitable for publication somewhere else, when I don’t plan to take it on no matter what you do with it.

2. Form letters discourage further conversation.
It’s a simple one-shot business transaction. You send me one query, I send you one response. If that response is no, that’s all you get, and I don’t want to give out any signals that suggest my decision might be open to negotiation. It isn’t. I don’t want to invite discussion, I won’t be coerced into giving a free critique, and I don’t have time to listen to a rebuttal against my decision. It won’t change my mind, it’ll just make you look unprofessional. You need to move on, and you need to let me move on, too. You’ll earn more respect by respecting my decision. And it’s not just me: Colleen Lindsay’s post What Not to Do When You Get a Rejection speaks in more depth about the kinds of follow-up correspondence agents and editors don’t like to see.

3. Don’t assume it’s you.
Some people respond to rejection in a very internal way. They think they must have done something wrong, and they analyze every minute nuance of their actions trying to figure out how they could have done better or changed the outcome. If you’re a writer, you need to develop a thicker skin than that. If your work is polished and well-written and interesting and engaging, it could just be that it’s not a fit for a particular publisher, that it’s not directed toward their market, or that it’s directed too well toward their market and they already have too many similar submissions in their list. Don’t beat yourself up over your query letter, either. If it’s well-written and professional and portrays you as sane and serious about getting published, it was probably fine. Get a critique group to look at your manuscript and your query, get opinions from other writers and from editors. If general consensus is that your manuscript is at a publishable stage and appropriate for submission, just accept that it wasn’t that publisher’s “type,” and move on.

4. Don’t assume it’s NOT you.
On the opposite end of the continuum, we find people who refuse to take responsibility for anything. The world is out to get them, and it’s everyone’s fault but theirs. Don’t go too far in this direction and assume your manuscript is perfect. Yes, it may have just been that your golden triangle didn’t fit in a publisher’s square hole, but it may also be that you’ve submitted a lump of unpolished tin. I see a lot of manuscripts that just aren’t fit to be published, with horrible grammar and spelling, or with premises and protagonists that make me weep. A certain amount of confidence is a good thing, but don’t ever become so overconfident that you refuse to consider that your manuscript might not be ready for the big leagues. Not all manuscripts are perfect; in fact, few of them are. If they were, I wouldn’t have a job.

5. Whether it’s about you or not, it’s not personal either way.
You’ve probably worked on your manuscript for a very long time. It’s your baby. It’s part of who you are. It’s your inner daydreams and emotions and hopes and fears written down for the whole world to see. You’ve never felt so free, or so exposed, as when you hand that little piece of your soul over for someone else’s approval or enjoyment. But to them, it’s just a book. It’s one of many books. Millions of books. No one who declines your manuscript is passing judgment on you or your worth as a person. They’re simply saying that this particular offering isn’t appropriate for them at this time. You’ve probably heard a thousand times about all the rejection letters any writer gets. I understand that “Don’t take it personally” is easier said than done. But really, I mean it. I make no value judgment on you as a person if I reject your manuscript. I don’t even make a value judgment on your writing. I just don’t want to publish it. It really is as impersonal as that. And that’s part of the value of a form rejection, believe it or not. As Rachelle Gardner points out, “the more detailed I get about the rejection, the more personal that rejection becomes.”

6. It’s who you know… but only to a point.
Nothing fills me with more anxiety than sending my own submissions out to face rejection. But, second to that, nothing fills me with more anxiety than reading a submission from a friend or colleague if I’m unfamiliar with their writing. Knowing someone in the industry might get you in the door, but what happens when you’re inside is all up to you. Your manuscript still has to stand on its own merits. It’s under more pressure, even, because it’s going to reflect on the person who referred you, too. I don’t give pity dates; if I accepted something that didn’t meet my standards, it would reflect on my reputation, as well. If it turns out that I can’t take it, I’ll have to reject it all the same no matter who you are. If I do take it, you can be assured that it’s because the manuscript has earned it. I may be more likely to offer feedback and critique to a friend’s manuscript, but I’m not going to be any more likely to accept it.

7. It’s not random.
I think this is the hardest one to accept. There are reasons, even if you don’t know them, and you may never know what they are. This is where the whole mythos of the crapshoot comes from: the folklore that acceptance and rejection are based solely on the editor or agent’s mood, a toss of a coin, what they had for breakfast and the state of their morning commute. It’s easy and convenient to think that way when you’re not presented with evidence to the contrary. I understand that it gives you the closure that you need. But please give us a little credit, too. Most of us treat our submissions seriously and make careful, considered decisions. Ultimately, we want to like the submissions we get. We wish every manuscript we get could be The One. And we want to see you succeed, too, even if your manuscript isn’t right for us.

Further reading:

I’ll leave you with this, from author JA Konrath: “Remember, there’s a word for a writer who never gives up: Published.”

If you’ve got a link to another good post on the subject, please leave it in a comment!

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