I cannot believe it’s December, but somehow it is. Folio’s almost a year old. First we were going to have a big party in spring, once we got our NY digs; then we were going to have a party in the fall, to celebrate a 9-month anniversary; then we were going to have it around the holidays. Now we ARE going to have it some time in January, to celebrate Folio’s first birthday, so I guess it’s OK that we’ve been too busy to plan a party til now.
Looks like we’ve sold enough books – creeping upwards on 90 (yes, that’s NINE-OH) to assure that the rent’s paid both in NY and in DC for the next couple of years. So that’s an enormous relief. I almost wish I weren’t having so much fun – I can’t help feeling guilty, like pretty soon the Fun God will realize that we’re all enjoying this whole setup way too much, but I’m just going to keep knocking on wood and praying that everything continues to move along on track.
I’m just coming back from the NY debut of a couple of authors of mine, Jane Jenkins and Janet Hirschenson of The Casting Company. Their book, A Star is Found: Our Adventures Casting Some of Hollywood’s Biggest Movies (Harcourt), went on sale a couple of weeks ago and is selling briskly. Jane and Janet are casting directors – possibly the most preeminent casting directors in the country – and truly nice people, to boot.
One of their comments struck a cord with me, probably because they were talking about rejection and I knew I was going to have to write about it later that night. They told the audience about how Meg Ryan came in for an audition; they liked her but she didn’t get the part; then she came in for a second audition for a different film; they still liked her but she didn’t get the part; and then finally, with When Harry Met Sally, she came in and they knew she was perfect, she was right. What struck me, though, was how Jane and Janet talked about the two roles she didn’t get: “She wasn’t exactly what we were looking for,” they said. It was completely non-judgmental, dispassionate, friendly, calm – they were keeping their eyes on the ball (i.e., casting films 1 and 2), and Meg Ryan didn’t exactly fit what they had in mind, so they moved on.
Somehow I thought this was exactly what most agents do, in the literary side of the business: we look at the letters that hit our desk, we approach them more-or-less non-judgmentally, dispassionately, friendly, hopeful that maybe this letter is going to be exactly what we’re looking for (even though we couldn’t tell you, before we open the envelope, what we were looking for). And then, in most cases, it isn’t; it’s not quite what we have in mind; and we move on. Form reject. Next. Onward.
In my posting last month, I tried to explain some of the thinking behind the “not exactly what I was looking for” mentality; this month I want to focus on how to decipher the rejection letters.
Jeff’s Step-By-Step Guide for Deciphering Rejection Letters.
Basic clichés that we may as well just get out of the way.
1. Rejection’s not personal. Unless you’ve done something really offensive in your coverletter, or somehow offended/alienated the agent, this is actually true. The agent doesn’t know you; it really isn’t personal.
2. Nobody’s here to provide feedback. Agents and editors don’t make a living providing feedback to unsolicited materials. If we ask for the materials, we might do so; but it’s very very rarely part of our job description, this early in the process. We’ll provide feedback once we sign you up; until then, our time might be better served working with the writers we’re already committed to.
3. Form rejection letters are the standard. They’re quick, easy, and economical. They’re the way this business works, so get used to it.
4. Rejection may come for a perfectly good reason, and it may come for no reason at all. Sometimes the agent’s having a very busy day; sometimes they’re having a rotten week, dealing with illness or stress or getting ready to go away on vacation.
Formulate your submission plan.
1. Start by writing the best book you can write, of course.
2. Do your homework: target your agents.
i. Put together a list of your “Top 20” agents.
ii. Then put together your list of “Next 20.”
iii. Finally list your “Bottom 20.” Now you have a list of about 60 agents.
iv. You’ve done your research, so you know: that these agents handle your kind of material; how they prefer to be contacted (snailmail, email, carrier pigeon, etc.); that they’re not totally opposed to working with new or different authors; that they’re reputable.
3. Draft your query letter (and don’t forget to include your self-addressed stamped envelope if you’re sending hardcopies; and be sure that you’ve included all the ways you can be reached).
4. You’re going to start out by contacting 10 agents at a time. (You’ll note, savvy mathematician that you are, that I’ve left room here for 6 rounds of submission.) Take 3 from each category (Top 20, Next 20, Bottom 20), and add 1 more from one of those categories, so you have 10 letters going out.
5. Contact your agents via the methods described in Step #2 above.
6. Sit back and wait. Start your next book, gnaw your toenails, get a massage, go see the latest movie (which hopefully Jane and Janet have cast). Take your mind off the waiting.
7. Eventually one of about six things is going to happen:
i. After about 3 or 4 months, you’ve heard absolutely nothing at all.
ii. You receive a “form rejection” response (this is a form letter, usually addressed “Dear Author,” and citing the various all-true reasons why the project isn’t right for the agent).
iii. You receive a minimal but personalized response – either scrawled on the bottom of your cover letter or scribbled on the form rejection letter.
iv. You receive a really personalized response – addressed to you, thoughtfully written, with comments about why the agent didn’t ask to read more, or suggestions about what you could do to improve the manuscript.
v. You receive a phonecall/email, asking for additional material.
vi. You receive a phonecall/email, asking if the agent can represent you.
8. Create a table with the following headings:
No Response--Form Reject--Minimal Response--Personalized Response--Request for More--Request for Representation
Then mark what happens in the appropriate box for each agent.
Agent #1
Agent #2
Agent #3
Agent #4
Agent #5
Agent #6
Agent #7
Agent #8
Agent #9
Agent #10
I always find that making charts like this one will make it far easier for you to actually be objective, and actually make constructive use of your time. As you hear from your agents, put a big fat X in whatever column is appropriate.
III. Decipher Your Chart.
1. 1 or more X’s in the “Request for Representation” Column: assess the agent, send out more query letters, if you’re not satisfied, but keep doing what you’re doing, because you’re doing it right.
2. 1 or more X’s in the “Request for More” Column: send out your material. You’re doing something right. But if, after 4 or 5 X’s in this column, you still haven’t moved forward in the publishing game, keep reading, because I think you’ve been bumped down to the next category.
3. 1 X in the “Personalized Response” Column: If you receive even one glowing rejection letter, send out to another 10 agents (again, your mix of Top, Middle, and Bottom). If you get the same sorts of responses from those 10, keep reading.
4. 3 or 4 X’s in the “Minimal Response” Column: If you receive 3 or 4 or more of these responses, send out to another 10 agents. If you get the same sorts of responses from those 10, keep reading.
5. 9 or 10 X’s in either the “No Response” or “Form Reject” Column: this is the heart of things, and here’s what you need to do. STOP. DO NOT SEND OUT MORE QUERY LETTERS. You need to fix something.
Something is not right in your approach.
Go back and read last month’s column, on why I usually reject manuscripts – somewhere in that list, I suspect, your manuscript will fall. It may be that it’s simply not well-written enough. It may be too small. You may not have a big enough platform, or the right kind of platform, to make your book work for a trade audience. Point is: something in your approach didn’t work. You don’t make the agents stop and say, “Wow, I’ve got to take a look at this!” So don’t keep sending out more queries, thinking it’s everybody else’s fault – it may be everybody else’s fault, I grant you, but in most cases it’s also that you didn’t quite explain yourself well enough, or write the book well enough, or succinctly sum up your project in a really compelling way.
Savvy you, you’ve already realized the punchline to my comments today: you’ll see that the agents and editors, despite themselves, have indeed provided valuable and useful feedback. So use it. Don’t just beat your head against the wall. Figure out what isn’t working in your approach (I already gave you a list last month on stuff to think about) and fix it.
Good luck!
Looks like we’ve sold enough books – creeping upwards on 90 (yes, that’s NINE-OH) to assure that the rent’s paid both in NY and in DC for the next couple of years. So that’s an enormous relief. I almost wish I weren’t having so much fun – I can’t help feeling guilty, like pretty soon the Fun God will realize that we’re all enjoying this whole setup way too much, but I’m just going to keep knocking on wood and praying that everything continues to move along on track.
I’m just coming back from the NY debut of a couple of authors of mine, Jane Jenkins and Janet Hirschenson of The Casting Company. Their book, A Star is Found: Our Adventures Casting Some of Hollywood’s Biggest Movies (Harcourt), went on sale a couple of weeks ago and is selling briskly. Jane and Janet are casting directors – possibly the most preeminent casting directors in the country – and truly nice people, to boot.
One of their comments struck a cord with me, probably because they were talking about rejection and I knew I was going to have to write about it later that night. They told the audience about how Meg Ryan came in for an audition; they liked her but she didn’t get the part; then she came in for a second audition for a different film; they still liked her but she didn’t get the part; and then finally, with When Harry Met Sally, she came in and they knew she was perfect, she was right. What struck me, though, was how Jane and Janet talked about the two roles she didn’t get: “She wasn’t exactly what we were looking for,” they said. It was completely non-judgmental, dispassionate, friendly, calm – they were keeping their eyes on the ball (i.e., casting films 1 and 2), and Meg Ryan didn’t exactly fit what they had in mind, so they moved on.
Somehow I thought this was exactly what most agents do, in the literary side of the business: we look at the letters that hit our desk, we approach them more-or-less non-judgmentally, dispassionately, friendly, hopeful that maybe this letter is going to be exactly what we’re looking for (even though we couldn’t tell you, before we open the envelope, what we were looking for). And then, in most cases, it isn’t; it’s not quite what we have in mind; and we move on. Form reject. Next. Onward.
In my posting last month, I tried to explain some of the thinking behind the “not exactly what I was looking for” mentality; this month I want to focus on how to decipher the rejection letters.
Jeff’s Step-By-Step Guide for Deciphering Rejection Letters.
Basic clichés that we may as well just get out of the way.
1. Rejection’s not personal. Unless you’ve done something really offensive in your coverletter, or somehow offended/alienated the agent, this is actually true. The agent doesn’t know you; it really isn’t personal.
2. Nobody’s here to provide feedback. Agents and editors don’t make a living providing feedback to unsolicited materials. If we ask for the materials, we might do so; but it’s very very rarely part of our job description, this early in the process. We’ll provide feedback once we sign you up; until then, our time might be better served working with the writers we’re already committed to.
3. Form rejection letters are the standard. They’re quick, easy, and economical. They’re the way this business works, so get used to it.
4. Rejection may come for a perfectly good reason, and it may come for no reason at all. Sometimes the agent’s having a very busy day; sometimes they’re having a rotten week, dealing with illness or stress or getting ready to go away on vacation.
Formulate your submission plan.
1. Start by writing the best book you can write, of course.
2. Do your homework: target your agents.
i. Put together a list of your “Top 20” agents.
ii. Then put together your list of “Next 20.”
iii. Finally list your “Bottom 20.” Now you have a list of about 60 agents.
iv. You’ve done your research, so you know: that these agents handle your kind of material; how they prefer to be contacted (snailmail, email, carrier pigeon, etc.); that they’re not totally opposed to working with new or different authors; that they’re reputable.
3. Draft your query letter (and don’t forget to include your self-addressed stamped envelope if you’re sending hardcopies; and be sure that you’ve included all the ways you can be reached).
4. You’re going to start out by contacting 10 agents at a time. (You’ll note, savvy mathematician that you are, that I’ve left room here for 6 rounds of submission.) Take 3 from each category (Top 20, Next 20, Bottom 20), and add 1 more from one of those categories, so you have 10 letters going out.
5. Contact your agents via the methods described in Step #2 above.
6. Sit back and wait. Start your next book, gnaw your toenails, get a massage, go see the latest movie (which hopefully Jane and Janet have cast). Take your mind off the waiting.
7. Eventually one of about six things is going to happen:
i. After about 3 or 4 months, you’ve heard absolutely nothing at all.
ii. You receive a “form rejection” response (this is a form letter, usually addressed “Dear Author,” and citing the various all-true reasons why the project isn’t right for the agent).
iii. You receive a minimal but personalized response – either scrawled on the bottom of your cover letter or scribbled on the form rejection letter.
iv. You receive a really personalized response – addressed to you, thoughtfully written, with comments about why the agent didn’t ask to read more, or suggestions about what you could do to improve the manuscript.
v. You receive a phonecall/email, asking for additional material.
vi. You receive a phonecall/email, asking if the agent can represent you.
8. Create a table with the following headings:
No Response--Form Reject--Minimal Response--Personalized Response--Request for More--Request for Representation
Then mark what happens in the appropriate box for each agent.
Agent #1
Agent #2
Agent #3
Agent #4
Agent #5
Agent #6
Agent #7
Agent #8
Agent #9
Agent #10
I always find that making charts like this one will make it far easier for you to actually be objective, and actually make constructive use of your time. As you hear from your agents, put a big fat X in whatever column is appropriate.
III. Decipher Your Chart.
1. 1 or more X’s in the “Request for Representation” Column: assess the agent, send out more query letters, if you’re not satisfied, but keep doing what you’re doing, because you’re doing it right.
2. 1 or more X’s in the “Request for More” Column: send out your material. You’re doing something right. But if, after 4 or 5 X’s in this column, you still haven’t moved forward in the publishing game, keep reading, because I think you’ve been bumped down to the next category.
3. 1 X in the “Personalized Response” Column: If you receive even one glowing rejection letter, send out to another 10 agents (again, your mix of Top, Middle, and Bottom). If you get the same sorts of responses from those 10, keep reading.
4. 3 or 4 X’s in the “Minimal Response” Column: If you receive 3 or 4 or more of these responses, send out to another 10 agents. If you get the same sorts of responses from those 10, keep reading.
5. 9 or 10 X’s in either the “No Response” or “Form Reject” Column: this is the heart of things, and here’s what you need to do. STOP. DO NOT SEND OUT MORE QUERY LETTERS. You need to fix something.
Something is not right in your approach.
Go back and read last month’s column, on why I usually reject manuscripts – somewhere in that list, I suspect, your manuscript will fall. It may be that it’s simply not well-written enough. It may be too small. You may not have a big enough platform, or the right kind of platform, to make your book work for a trade audience. Point is: something in your approach didn’t work. You don’t make the agents stop and say, “Wow, I’ve got to take a look at this!” So don’t keep sending out more queries, thinking it’s everybody else’s fault – it may be everybody else’s fault, I grant you, but in most cases it’s also that you didn’t quite explain yourself well enough, or write the book well enough, or succinctly sum up your project in a really compelling way.
Savvy you, you’ve already realized the punchline to my comments today: you’ll see that the agents and editors, despite themselves, have indeed provided valuable and useful feedback. So use it. Don’t just beat your head against the wall. Figure out what isn’t working in your approach (I already gave you a list last month on stuff to think about) and fix it.
Good luck!
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