So while I am currently in a round of submissions, I have
concluded that it really is a game of chance that your work will meet the
needs, timing and tastes of the person you have sent it to. One agent might
love your voice, but not have room on their list for another work of your
genre; another may have the room, but not connect with your voice. It’s so
subjective and time dependent, both of which are completely out of the writer's
control. Funnily, until you get the rejections, and read their notes, (if you
are lucky enough to get some,) you don’t really get to see this.
Instead we, as delicate-souled creatives with a mean inner
critic, naturally assume that unless told otherwise, that a No translates to “your
writing sucks." Which, of course, cues much boo-hooing and chocolate
consumption. There is nothing wrong with either the boo-hooing and the
chocolate therapy; our hopes have been given a kicking, we are within our
rights to vent and soothe. BUT once we've had that moment, we need to be a
little more analytical.
Here is where I have got to. If an agent rejects The Work, it
can be because;
1)
The work sucks. (Sorry,
but we have to acknowledge this. Some work is bad. We've all seen bad work, (even
in print which is gutting) and hopefully we recognize it when we produce it and either
take the time to correct it or never let it see the light of day. Not everyone
does. So, there must be a chance that this is why the work is rejected.)
2) The work doesn’t suck, but it could be better, and deep down you know that, but you are so desperate to get it out there, that you hope that they'll overlook the rough bits which can be tightened up later, right? Sorry. No. The Work should be the best it can be, when you set it loose. You've worked so hard on it, it deserves its best shot, and I think agents can spot the ones that aren’t, from beyond a mile off.)
3) The agent doesn’t take this genre of work. (Simply, better homework should have been done.)
4)
The agent is not taking
anymore clients. (How could you know this unless it manifestly says so on their website? This is not within your control.)
5)
The agent is a fool and
cannot see the inherent brilliance of The Work. (Possible. JK Rowling got
rejections. For more agents who must be kicking themselves, see here. Not all
agents are equal. So let’s say that this rejection was a lucky escape. Phew!
And it isn’t within your control either.)
6)
The agent LOVES your
work, but already has four authors on their list in the same genre as The Work.
(Agents need to spread their bets too, and give each of their existing authors
a fair shot. This one is again, out of your control.)
7)
The market is saturated
with your genre. (Again, this is out of your control. You are writing the story
you need to tell and when you started there wasn’t much of it in the
marketplace. In the years you’ve spent honing it, that has changed. You couldn’t know
this. Sometimes that’s just timing.)
Let’s look at the stats. (Say it with the voice of a sports
commentator, it works better.) Of those 7 reasons for rejection (which were the
first to come into my head), only 3 are within the writer's control. That is less
than 50 percent (Oohh look, I'm doing Maths again!! It's been a while). You
cannot beat yourself up over something that was less than half in your control.
You can however improve your chances, firstly by negating points 1 & 2. Then you take
out point 3 by getting to know your prospective agents and what they are
looking for. By sending your researched/stalked/pinpointed agents the very best you’ve got, the
rest is out of your hands. You can only cross your fingers, invoke every superstition
(yes, I sought out and touched a supposedly lucky heart-shaped stone in Venice recently. That’s just
covering all bases, isn’t it?) and hope that the planets are in the right alignment
for your wishes to come true.
With that in mind, perhaps the angst of submissions and the pain of rejection might diminish at at least a little? And then there is always the chocolate...Good luck!
No comments:
Post a Comment