No, Greaveburn hasn’t been accepted, published and raised to international acclaim. But in the pile of rejection letters, I’ve found some little nuggets of hope for the future. The latest letter, which I got this morning, has reinforced my belief that there is such a thing as a good rejection. The people at PFD are not only quick to respond, but generally nice people too. Then again, I would say that, wouldn’t I? They offered me this lovely compliment (even if they didnt want me. Boo-hoo-hoo):
Thank you for sending us Greaveburn. We very much enjoyed reading your work and think that you do have a talent for writing. However, in the current publishing climate it is increasingly difficult to sell publications and as a result we will not be able to offer you representation at this time.
However, every agency feels differently so please don’t let this discourage you from sending out your work, and we would strongly advise you to keep pursuing your writing.
We wish you the best of luck with Greaveburn,
(Insert nice person’s unreadable signature here).
Isn’t that nice? What more encouragement could I ask for? Jeez, I don’t get those kind of comments when my Mum reads it! If anyone’s interested, she generally ‘doesn’t understand’ what she just read but she’s ‘sure that it’s good’. Brilliant. Cheers, Ma!
Anyhoo, what a great letter. However, it does raise a few more questions for those of us who are striving for Publication Nirvana. If we’re writing for an industry where it’s ‘increasingly difficult’ for professional agents to get people published, how the hell are we supposed to fair in this dog-eat-dog world of literature? Surely Yeti-eats-chinchilla would be a more accurate analogy. It certainly encourages self-publication and e-publications. Especially when even someone as unheard of as myself can get approx 250 Twitter followers from all over the world. It MUST be easy.
These rejections have been helpful and encouraging. If nothing else, it’s proved that I can interest an agent, even if I can’t seal the deal. Maybe Greaveburn won’t make it this time around. So what if Abrasia and Darrant and the insane Professor Loosestrife don’t cut the mustard. At the end of the day, they’re like old friends to me and I love them more than most family members. Maybe this book is just for me to enjoy. That said, there’s no way I’m stopping trying just yet. As my motto goes:
Expect the worst, and hope for the best.
Yes, you can quote me.
Until the next rejection letter, thanks for reading.