Let Me In!

It’s actually going to be a real post this week! With length and misery and everything!

whoop

Seriously though, this blog post is not for the fainthearted – it is, however, intended to be an understanding cuddle to everyone who has felt what I’m feeling at the minute re: rejections. And to try and reassure myself, as much as anyone, that this feeling isn’t reserved for me, and that it won’t last.

So here’s how I feel. Nearly ten years ago, in my tender early teens, I knocked politely on the door of a Very Intimidating House, and had this conversation with the very tall and scary person, called Publishing Industry, who answered:

Me: Will you publish my book please?

Publishing Industry: *flicking through my 500+ page, dragons-and-swords fantasy trilogy* No. Go away and write a better book.

Which, to be honest, was fair. So I did. Two years later, we had the same conversation about my much-harder-to-genre-ise YA story, only now there were some extras:

Publishing Industry: Still not a good enough book. Also, you need to get better at writing cover letters and synopses, pay attention to every minute detail on our various and sundry websites to make sure you don’t piss us off at the starting post, find out where you stand in the children’s market, learn how to pitch better and get more writing experience.

FINE

So I went away (skipping and frolicking) and read hundreds of books, learned the children’s market about as well as anyone who isn’t being paid to do so can, studied countless guides to writing cover letters and synopses to write a good pitch, made sure I was submitting precisely within the guidelines of each individual agency / competition, and in the meantime got an MA in Creative Writing as well as writing thousands and thousands more words.

Now, I’m standing in front of that same door (only now it’s cold and pissing rain) and they still won’t let me in. And now, no-one will even tell me why. Is it because my writing isn’t good enough? Maybe; I’m no JK Rowling, but I’ve also read (published) worse. Is it because my story isn’t marketable? Again, maybe; but it’s essentially children’s fantasy – how un-marketable has that ever been?  Is it because I’m just unlucky, and keep writing to the wrong people at the wrong time? Maybe; but that doesn’t make it sting any less.

What’s frustrating me the most at the minute is that I keep finding myself trawling the internet for more tips, more guidance, more things I haven’t tried that might finally get me through that door. But all I ever find is stuff I’ve already done.

So that’s me this week, I’m afraid. Standing outside of a perennially closed door; cold, soaked and very, very grumpy.

sad rain

Next week we’re back to short and sweet, but I promise to also say some things that won’t leave you wanting to go to bed forever. Maybe.

 

But what happens if this actually doesn’t work?

God, even writing this post is going to be bleak. But come on guys, let’s chin up and barrel through. I am totally in control of my emotions on this subject, and this will not devolve into a hysterical, shrieking mess. I got this.

fake swagger

Ahem. So. My Current Rejection Tally stands at 22 – and it’s actually 24 if you include the two agencies I’ve nagged for a reply but who almost certainly aren’t going to email me back. (For the interested, 11 of those 22 have been actual rejection letters, the other 11 are assumed – if two months and three emails haven’t done it, we can probably safely assume nothing will.) My top choices list all have big red ‘R’s next to them on the fabled spreadsheet, or a slightly less aggressively red ‘Full MS – R’. Even though I’m currently waiting on 9 responses (unfortunately including the 2 that I’m 99.9% sure are rejections), and have a further 19 agencies in the next batch alone – it seems like it might be time to consider what happens if every one of these agencies – and the ‘long shot’ list that comes after – results in a rejection.

I’ve written before about what I believe is the best way you can prepare for an utterly failed submission, so I’m not really going to cover the practical aspects of what you actually do next, so much as the more abstract, emotional elements. How will I actually feel, if every single one of those agencies tells me I’m not quite good enough?

Firstly, it has to be said, quite embarrassed. There are plenty of people in the world (and I am often one of them) who won’t tell anyone when they have a driving test coming up, or when they’ve started a diet, or made a new life resolution – for fear of having to admit to those same people that you failed. Now not only did I tell literally everyone about my attempts to get published, I actually broadcast it on the internet. I was aware of the extent to which this might backfire when I started, but blithely told myself (and not incorrectly, it has to be said) that it probably wouldn’t be read by anyone, anyway, and it was a good way of guilt-forcing myself into not giving up. And in some ways this has worked – I definitely would have massively slowed down my submission / general creative / positivity output without feeling as though a small collection of friends and strangers would a) notice and b) challenge me on it. In fact, the dread of embarrassment at suddenly giving up on this blog altogether has once or twice resulted in rage-fuelled Sunday night power-writings, or panic-fuelled I-have-to-catch-a-train-in-half-an-hour submissions – which may not have produced my best work, but it did at least produce work. So yes, if at the end of this little internet adventure I have to post a ‘sorry guys, but I ran out of agents who might have cared’ conclusion, I will feel pretty damn mortified.

On a slightly more optimistic note, I think a (very small, to be honest) part of me will be pretty much okay with it. Being able to devote myself fully to my new project would hopefully grease some seriously sticky wheels, and I can’t say it won’t feel refreshing to see that little ‘(1)’ symbol on my inbox and not get that contradictory swoop of hope and dread in my guts.

But let’s be honest here, the overwhelming majority of my feelings will be neatly summarised by this image:

crying in the rain

The disappointment will be crushing on, I imagine, new and exciting levels. I don’t really want to linger on this point, but think 24/7 pyjamas, crying in work bathrooms and a hopefully temporary, though nonetheless intense, crisis of confidence / self-esteem. Throw in about 6 BMI points worth of chocolate and binge-watching old Friends episodes, and you pretty much have it. It wouldn’t be pretty.

The astute among you may have noticed that I’ve mentioned giving up and starting again twice before – my current submission is actually the third novel I’ve sent off, misty-eyed and hopeful, to agencies. So do I not know exactly how I’ll feel if I have to give up and start again now? Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?…your call), no. I was nowhere near as mercenary with either of my previous submissions, and submitted in a much more happy-go-lucky, arbitrary and (perhaps) healthy way. Whilst this meant neither story was exposed to as many potential opportunities, it also meant that neither of them were systematically rejected by everyone possible (though in fairness…I’m pretty damn sure they would have been). Prior to now, I have never exhausted every possibility in my bull-headed pursuit of publication – and so maintained the veil of ‘well it could have happened…’ that would be thoroughly lacking this time.

So…yeah. If this doesn’t work, it will suck. But here are the comforting thoughts on which I will leave both you and (for sanity reasons) myself:

  1. It hasn’t happened yet, and is actually quite a ways off.
  2. Even if this book is rejected by everyone, I am 100% sure that I will just write another one, and try again.
  3. One day – one bloody day – I am as sure as it is possible for me to be that my stubbornness will beat the shit out of the publishing industry’s stubbornness, and I’ll get there.

So we’ll see.

Next Post: As part of my other life in which I actually get paid for stuff, I’ve started work as the editor for Cuckoo Review – a publication in which young people in the north of England write arts reviews, supported by New Writing North and an array of professional writers. Having been doing this job for a few weeks now, it’s got me thinking about the importance of editing, and the relationship between writers’ acceptance of criticism and chances of success – cue, The Rejection Box. Didn’t I make that sound like an absolute riot!?

Submissions Last Week:

Just two, but to be honest considering the level of busy things are at the moment, and the fact that I still haven’t heard back from Full Manuscript Request #3 – unusually, I don’t actually feel the need to apologise.

Current Rejection Tally: 22

How Good Do You Have To Be?

So this is a question I, somewhat arrogantly, haven’t actually addressed on the blog yet: how good do you actually have to be to get published? Temporarily pushing aside the luck, the timing, the taste and all the other myriad factors that contribute to publication: is the book actually just…good enough?

Well, actually, I suppose the first question is; does it actually have to be good? Now, you can throw all the Fifty Shades of Grey / Twilight arguments you like at me, but the answer is yes. Yeah, I know: E.L. James is rich, Stephenie Meyer got a contract within a month or something, that book you read last month was purest bollocks etc. etc. There are always going to be exceptions to the rule: every now and then I think the universe likes to throw a curveball, just to check we’re all paying attention. Plus, I maintain that if E.L. James had been submitting to agencies, she would have been soundly and eternally ignored. She was published because of her fanfic’s pre-existing  popularity, and thus a guaranteed audience – and if the last year has taught us anything at all, it is that there is absolutely no accounting for the public’s taste.

i dunno

So, let’s assume that yes, the book does – obviously – have to be good enough to be published. How do I know when I have touched upon such hallowed ground?

Well, for me, it’s a combination of four factors, in descending order of common sense.

  1. I have edited it until my eyes bleed.  

Another thing we can just assume, is that a first draft isn’t good enough. Unless you’re magic, or perhaps Shakespeare (though even then…unlikely), a first draft is never going to be the best you can make it. I – she says, preening – have edited my book so much I lost count of what technically counted as a draft when I started the whole thing again from scratch, four edits in. I have edited it so much I simply cannot do it anymore, without knowing it will actually serve a purpose. I don’t say this out of arrogance or smugness, so much as with the hollow, weary eyes of one who truly – truly – cannot listen to the sound of her own narrative without screaming anymore. So that’s my measure of when you’ve edited enough; when you know it by heart, spend half an hour debating over comma placement, and cannot look at the manuscript without feeling slightly sick.

  1. Positive feedback from knowledgeable sources.

Now, this doesn’t mean ‘my mum reads lots of books, and she loved it’ (not least because my mum – whilst generally fabulous – hasn’t read it, probably wouldn’t like it, and would have no qualms about telling me so). I am, however, fortunate enough to have been able to take an MA in Creative Writing, and so had access to published, experienced writers to edit and feedback on my work. One of them said she thought that, with some work, this story would be publishable, and I have clung to that casual comment like a particularly voracious koala bear. I expect a similar effect could be achieved by paying for a professional editor’s opinion. Expensive, but – rest assured – cheaper than an MA.

One a similar note, whilst I haven’t actually had anything approaching an offer of representation from an agent, I have had several personal, heartening rejections (ha) and three full manuscript requests, which – if somewhat soul-destroying when they come to nothing – are unquestionably encouraging in the long run.

  1. Arrogant comparisons to published books.

Now please don’t think too badly of me for this one. I frequently read books so mind-alteringly astounding they make me feel like a time-wasting goon, with not an ounce of talent to speak of. I also often read books that leave me with a sort of begrudging admiration for a phrase or paragraph that feels depressingly beyond my own meagre ability. But occasionally – just occasionally – I read a published book, and get a twisted thrill of smugness, combined with a hearty dollop of bitterness, and the thought ‘I think I would have pulled that off better,’ or ‘I think my idea’s more original than that,’ or, most often, ‘WHY is she doing that, my characters are never this plot-servingly stupid!’ (disclaimer: not always true). And hey, they got published, right?

  1. Sheer pig-headedness.

The fact is that an awful lot of the time – and especially more recently – I’m not at all sure I’m good enough. I re-read excerpts of my submission and am suddenly, burningly sure they’re crap. I write a few lines of a new project, and cringe even as my fingers tap. I receive a rejection and ignore the positive comments, so as to wallow in the ‘oh GOD, she’s RIGHT, I am a TERRIBLE WRITER’ of the criticisms. Not only is this unhelpful, I know – in my heart of hearts, and less self-pitying moods – that it’s unfair. On good days, in soft lighting, I’m pretty sure I’m a decent writer. But failing that, I am as bloody stubborn as they come. And you’d be surprised how useful that is.

Next Post: Being as I’m not currently mired quite so deep in the self-pity trench as I have been in (many) previous weeks, I’m going to try and stagger through a post on what happens if this actually doesn’t work. Because, let’s face it, there’s a good chance it won’t, and we might as well all be prepared.

gulp

Submission Last Week

Just two, because I’m STILL waiting on that third MS response…which doesn’t feel like the most encouraging sign…

Current Rejection Tally: 17

A Most Technical and Thorough Study of Successful Children’s Authors

Firstly, apologies for the lack of post last week – I was halfway through writing this one, thought I had loads more time to finish it, and then accidentally filled that time with other stuff. My bad.

anyway

‘An original idea. That can’t be too hard, the library must be full of them’ – Stephen Fry

Okay, I was fresh out of blog ideas this week, so have fallen back on the age-old contingency of just nicking stuff from other people. I picked a list of authors by the extremely professional method of ‘the first few that popped into my head’, and put my not-inconsiderable cyber-stalking talents into trying to find their respective rejection / getting published stories. I also tweeted all of them to ask how many rejections they had received for their first novel. I didn’t really expect any replies because, like, these people are busy and my Twitter feed is looking increasingly desperate (which, to be fair, I pretty much am) – but did actually receive two responses!

So, here is my totally random and none-too-comprehensive list. They’re all at least partly children’s authors because that’s my area of interest (also that’s just what I read), and all are award-winning, highly respected and some of my faves.

Jonathan Stroud

Best-selling author of the Bartimaeus Sequence and Lockwood and Co., founder of creativity campaign Freedom To Think, and my all-time favourite children’s author.

I couldn’t find loads of information from Jonathan Stroud on his road to publication. He published a book of word puzzles aged 23, first novel at 28 and two years later became a full-time writer (still two years before the first Bartimaeus book – The Amulet of Samarkand – was published) – so we can safely assume he did pretty damn well. His advice to writers with a completed novel pursuing publication was ‘When you’re confident you’ve got something worth showing, send your material to several publishers at once, so you don’t waste time if it’s rejected. […] Don’t worry if you get rejections, but listen to any advice.’

(To be honest at this point I got sucked into a tragic hour of re-reading loads of information about the Bartimaeus books that I already knew, so let’s move on…)

Patrick Ness

Carnegie-award winning author of the Chaos Walking series, A Monster Calls (novel and screenplay), The Rest of Us Just Live Here, various other slices of fabulousness; but more importantly, another member of my Top 3.

There’s actually LOADS of advice / info from Patrick Ness about getting published, due to his 2009 Booktrust residency, but I’ve picked out the bits that gave my personal ego the warmest hug. He says that his original list of agents to submit to had sixty people on it (mine, after a quick headcount, has 58), and that he kept a spreadsheet of every agent, listing the date the submission was sent and a note on their response. Dude is my spirit animal. He’s non-specific on a stark, cold number of rejections, but does state that he had two ‘very snotty’ letters, a majority of form responses, and five or six requests for the full MS. Of all the author research and reading I did (and I really got quite sucked into it), nothing made me feel as reassured and soothed as this; jokes aside (sickly alert), I can’t express how much better reading this made me feel.

Sarah Crossan

An Irish writer, known mostly for her young adult novels – many of which have won awards, most notably perhaps last year’s One, which won the Carnegie. (Hilariously, I kept typing ‘one’ instead of ‘won’ there…not that I’m jealous or anything.)

Rejections: 0

raspberry

And I quote ‘the journey has been a long one, as it is for most writers […] I wrote privately and with no feedback for ten years before I wrote The Weight of Water, and luckily it was picked up by the first agent I contacted’. Now, Sarah Crossan is extraordinarily talented and seems like a bit of a legend, so I don’t want to undermine that casually understated ‘luckily’, but damn. I think this is one of those ‘exception, not the rule’ situations, but it’s mostly depressing to think about, so let’s just move on…

Matt Haig 

Author, journalist, mental health advocate and all-around dude. Writer of, amongst others, The Last Family in England, The Radleys, Shadow Forest and the upcoming How To Stop Time, about which I am excited.

Rejections: 37

Again there wasn’t a ton of information about Matt Haig’s road to publication – his road to writing a novel was so fraught it presumably is quite overshadowed. He does have a blogpost on how to get published[http://www.matthaig.com/how-to-get-published/], though, written in a typically hilarious series of undercuts and contradictions. Mostly I came across him assuring aspiring writers that being published and successful as a writer will not ‘alter your brain chemistry’ and automatically make you happy. Which I’m sure is true, but, y’know, I’d rather have a crack at it.

Philip Reeve 

Bestselling author of the Mortal Engines series, Carnegie-winner for Here Lies Arthur (my favourite) and recently nominated for Railhead, Philip Reeve actually responded to my tweet!

Rejections: and I quote, ‘LOADS’

I’m just going to let this sequence of tweets speak for itself: “Oh, LOADS of agents rejected Mortal Engines, or just ignored it.” – “This was before steampunk was a thing, I think the retro-tech element just confused them.” – “One said I needed to make it more futuristic, ‘like Independence Day’.” – “(I was trying to sell it as grown-up SF/F. When I redid it as a kids book Scholastic were interested straight away.)” – “The best bit was after it was published, when some of the agents who’d ignored my letters got in touch asking to represent me.” WE CAN ONLY DREAM.

So that was fun and educational for all! I would highly recommend giving these authors websites a good look, and if you’re into YA and haven’t read any of their respective novels then it’s only really sensible that you drop whatever you’re doing and get on that.

Next Post: How good do you actually have to be to get published? Hell if I know, but since when has that stopped me writing a blog post on it?

Submissions Last Week

Just one, but I’m still waiting on Full MS Request #3 so even that one was probs a bit cheeky…

Current Rejection Tally: 14

 

Following advice, not following advice, and giving advice guilty side-eye whilst ignoring it.

There is an overabundance of ‘how to get published’ advice out there. This is a fairly stupid thing to say, some would advise, given that this very blog could be seen as ‘how to get published’ advice.

advice - sarcastic comment

Except that CLEARLY this is not ‘how to get published’ advice. At best, this is ‘how to sort-of, sometimes cope with NOT being published, and only occasionally embarrass yourself’ advice. On which I occasionally implore you not to follow my really quite questionable advice.

But that’s mostly because I – as an unpublished person – shouldn’t really know the first thing about getting published. And you should never follow advice from someone who has not actually achieved whatever it is they’re advising you about. Except that, actually, I do know quite a lot about how to get published. I kind of know how to decide which way I should pursue publication, I know what resources are most helpful, I know how difficult it is and why that is, I know how long the odds are, I know how valuable determination is, I know – more to the point – how valuable actual writing talent is (as much as anyone can). I’d actually be willing to bet I know as much about getting published as some people who are published. I have the theory nailed, I’m just having…issues with the practical.

And as someone who has re-taken the practical as many times as I have – somehow getting ever closer to success without actually moving – I have been thoroughly and persistently bombarded with advice. Now much of this I have actually sought out, and most of it has been immensely valuable: I only gained whatever knowledge I have by pilfering it from other sources. BUT, it has to be said that occasionally there are moments when it’s actually worth ignoring the advice.

Here have been a few of these moments from my perspective:

  • When told that I shouldn’t send off a submission a day, but craft individual submissions carefully and individually, wait for the response to each one and incorporate any (unlikely) feedback into my manuscript before carefully crafting the next submission. Didn’t follow because:

I ain't got time for that

  • It’s universally accepted that you should not continue to email an agency (or frankly, anyone at all) who has rejected you. And whilst in 99.9% of cases I think this is spot on, I have recently – and just the once – ignored it. Because shy bairns get nowt, and sometimes desperation wins out (it hasn’t).
  • Don’t submit to agencies who aren’t advertising for submission. Well I’ve done this twice, once with initially positive results that then went south, and the other with no result at all – but if the worst that can happen is being ignored (which is what happens with many agencies who are open for submission), then I don’t see the harm in it, even if it’s more than likely a total waste of time.
  • Don’t get too downhearted about rejection. Pretty much every rejection I’ve received contains this advice, and whilst it is stellar, it’s also near impossible to follow. Plus, as my boyfriend recently pointed out to me during a more recent meltdown, the extent to which you are upset about something is directly proportionate to how much you care about it. And, you know, caring is A++.

So yes, I reckon the trick is to listen to all advice, take it usually but ignore it when you have reason to. For life generally, really, but – you know, as is relevant – for publishing. There is so much advice out there that you can’t possibly follow all of it, and nor should you – and that’s worth bearing in mind.

Though, to round this off, I’m going to leave you with Matt Haig’s Some Fucking Writing Tips – for some advice that is useful, interesting and – most importantly – hilarious.

Next Post: To be quite honest it’s getting harder and harder to think of posts that seem relevant when often what I want to write is ‘Yep. Still being rejected. Still not JK Rowling.’ So I think I’m going to do what I often do in such creative block situations, and fall back on other people – I’m going to have a dig around a few of my favourite contemporary authors sites and see what they have to say about trying to get published. And then, in all likelihood when I read that they just got published no problem and that’s why they’re successful, duh, throw myself a little Pity Party. All invited.

Submissions Last Week

None, but a guilt-free none this time, as I’m waiting for another full MS response.

Current Rejection Tally: 11

 

Moan, moan, apologise for moaning, moan…

So it’s going to be a short one today, for the following reasons:

  1. I had written a longer post about feedback, in which I basically banged on about how regardless of what anyone says to you, you will not receive real feedback from agents. The post was, frankly, not that interesting or funny, and I wasn’t overly happy about putting it up, but didn’t have time to try something else. Then, as I was finishing writing it, I got a rejection email from the second agent to have asked for my full manuscript, containing really quite a lot of feedback.
  2. This rejection, for reasons that don’t make a whole lot of sense even to me, has been by far the most crushing so far. Some combination of the professional-but-personal tone of the emails I had received from this agent, and the fact that the main issue they had with the manuscript is actually a pretty major problem that I can’t quick-fix, and the fact that the email was so long that for an instant I thought it might not be a rejection, has all melted together to make me feel, really, pretty lousy.
  3. What should balance out this news is that the day before this rejection, I received another request for my full manuscript. Whilst this is unquestionably excellent, I’m afraid I’m just not as excited about this agency as the last one (trust me, I am telling myself that beggars can’t be choosers in a continuous stream), and am also starting to get distinctly wary of letting my hopes get all high again.

So essentially this is just a boring update post I’m afraid. A little bit too much has happened in a short space of time for me to actually wrap my head around, let alone form into a coherent blog post. This morning I was seriously considering packing in for the first time (ooh, just listen to those violins), so to save you all reading any more confused whingeing and me making any more of a prat of myself, I’m gonna leave it here for this week.

i just have a lot of feelings.gif

Come back next Monday for an actual post, and the longed-for return of my sense of humour.

Edit: Goodness, wasn’t that just a mess? Sadly now I really don’t have time to put anything else together, so I’m afraid we’re just going to have to make do. Suffice it to say I’ve managed to claw myself a good way out of the above self-pity pit in the days since it was written, and next week will return with a real post, perspective and – I can almost promise – no complaining!

Next Post: I think I’ve now pointed out enough occasions when I have blithely ignored even my own advice, that it’s worth considering when – and when not – to follow writing / publishing advice generally. I actually once made a short film about this as part of a university project, so depending on my levels of self-consciousness next week you may even get to see me doing my utmost to avoid being on camera!

Submissions Last Week

*sigh* I really am just the worst resolution-keeper ever. I only sent off one, okay, but – as you can see above – I was sad and traumatised and very, very confused! Also the third agent to have requested my full manuscript has asked to read it exclusively, so next week will be more of this, but with less of the guilt and excuses.

Current Rejection Tally: 10

Square One. Again. Naturally. (Well, Actually Square One and a Half)

You guys are gonna get so sick of me writing posts about rejection. But then…in my own defence, it really does say this on the tin.

You remember that Good News post a few weeks back, in which an agent had asked for my full manuscript and I was trying not to get too excited, in case it came to nothing? But really, I was doing that thing where you’re not doing well in a game, so you start saying things like ‘God I’m such a loser’ and ‘there is no way I can pull it back from here’ whilst actually quietly hoping you could still snatch victory from the jaws of defeat?

Sadly, the universe wasn’t fooled and my full manuscript was met with another rejection.

sad

So originally this post was intended to lament the tragedy of having hope given to you, only for it to be snatched nastily away as soon as you get attached to it. In spite of all my vocal caution and ‘I don’t want to get too excited, but…’, I was pretty darn bummed. I entirely ignored all of my own advice and spent that evening and much of the next day curled up in a blanket with unwashed hair and a steady stream of biscuits, binge-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was all a bit tragic.

But I had started to bounce back. A friend had provided me with a surprisingly helpful metaphor – that my submissions were like job applications – a job which I had been applying to for literally years. And having my full manuscript requested was like finally getting an interview for that job. It’s a weird balance, because on the one hand you’ve managed to progress further than ever before; but on the other, failure here lands you right back where you started. A similar (though less mature) metaphor, that I feel better communicates the sheer frustration, is when you’ve spent a truly embarrassing amount of time going over and over the same level on a video game (in my head this is Super Mario) – you finally make it to the boss at the end of the level, only to not get a single hit in before being squashed under his great spiky turtle-shell. That can induce some primary school-level tantrum-ing, right there.

So with thoughts like these having helped me salve the wound a bit, I was planning to end this post on a ‘but you can’t give up that easily’ note, and maybe an entertaining ‘I regret nothing’ gif. Unfortunately I was feeling too sorry for myself to write this post on my usual schedule, so it hadn’t gotten any further than mental planning.

And then…

(Oooooo…..)

Another agent requested my full manuscript.

gawp

That was pretty much how I felt, too. Whilst still being thrilled to itty bitty pieces about it, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling distinctly ‘once bitten, twice shy’ this time around. None of the giddy phone calls or group messages this time. I’ve told anyone who has directly asked me how this blog / my submissions  / my general level of sanity is going, but haven’t made the same kind of song and dance about it. I even considered not writing about it on The Rejection Box until I knew the outcome either way – to at least save myself the mild public embarrassment. But then I realised that was literally the opposite attitude to what this blog is supposed to be about, and so here I am. Happy, but wary.

And that’s really all I’ve got to say this week, I’m afraid. I’m sorry for the lack of useful information or advice in this post, but my brain hasn’t fully wrapped itself around what’s happening yet, which makes writing about it in any kind of knowledgeable way feel a bit false. I’m less sorry for the lack of ‘please don’t think I’m ungrateful’ platitudes, because really, who enjoys reading those? (Please just assume I am always worried about coming across as an arsehole, until further notice.) I’m also getting more and more conscious of the need to avoid repeating myself, or continuing down the rejection->possible success->more rejection->more possible success cycle, so please excuse this meander-y, slightly useless update of a post.

Maybe go look at that hilarious David Tennant gif again, and click off this page with that as your abiding memory. Okay? Okay. I’ll keep you posted.

Next Post: A (possibly slightly belated) explanation of exactly why I’m sending my book off to agents, as opposed to the alternatives. I know very little about self-publishing, but the very little I know will probably make a daring appearance, as well as at least three mentions of how much I hate marketing.

Submissions Last Week

Bit of a cop-out here. None this week – having reached around the 25 submissions mark, I was considering taking a week’s break to see if I could chase up some more responses. Then I got the request for the full MS and, even though this agent hasn’t asked for exclusivity, it justified my need for laziness I’m afraid. But I really will crack on again from next week, I promise.

Current Rejection Tally: 8