REJECTIONS
By Candice Vetter



I was working on this speech when my 11-year-old daughter asked what I was doing. I told her I was writing a talk about getting rejections.  She said, "Why?"

I said, "Because some people are afraid of rejections. So they don't submit."

She said, "But they can only say No. It's not like they'll put a big stamp on your forehead that says `Reject'."

And I said, "Exactly."

Rejections don't mean you're a Reject. In the business world, which writing is part of, although that's not always obvious, a businessperson buys a product because that product is expected to make money. Any product that does not seem likely to make more than it cost will not be purchased. It's very simple.

It has nothing to do with talent or personality or the years of slaving you did on your manuscript. And I know what I'm talking about. I've had four rejections on a book query and synopsis, one rejection on a partial, three rejections on full manuscripts, dozens of short-story rejections, dozens of rejected (or completely ignored) rejections on non-fiction queries. But am I discouraged? No. Well, not much.

I've also sold one short story. And sold lots of magazine articles. None of which would have happened if I had let myself be discouraged by my first few rejection letters.

Rejections provide you with opportunities.

ONE: They provide an opportunity to TEST THE MARKET.

If the publisher believes there is a market for your product they will buy it, if they don't, they won't. So producing a good product is not enough. YOU MUST TEST THE MARKET. You Test The Market by submitting stories and seeing if anyone buys them. If they sell, well, that's great, but not what usually happens. Way more stories are rejected than are bought. A rejection tells you directly that a publisher will not buy a particular story. Sometimes it's because the story is not very good even though it's a story-type they would otherwise buy.

Sometimes it's not a story-type that they want. They might not buy that type of story normally, or they might be over-inventoried on those types of stories.

Sometimes rejection letters will tell you, straight out, why they didn't buy the story. Sometimes they won't tell you a thing. But you have at least tested this market.

TWO: Rejections give you an opportunity to receive useful feedback.

It's like I just said. I've had rejection letters that stated they thought my story was great, but that it wasn't what they needed right now.

THEN the letter went on to state exactly what they did need. Some of them even suggested I write what they need and then send it.  That's one of the better rejections!

THREE: Rejections can provide you with contact information.

I've had a story rejected with a suggestion that I send it to a specific house, and voila! That story sold.

I've also had many queries for articles rejected with a suggestion that "so-and-so" might like this, and they did.

FOUR: Rejections provide a chance to look like "a real writer".

Everyone knows that writers deal with rejections, it's part of the culture. So next time someone says "Have you sold a book?" you can say, "No, but I just got a rejection from Harpers in New York."

Surprisingly, this impresses people. People are impressed that you even wrote a whole book, much less sent it to New York!

You can also join RWA Pro if you've been rejected and can prove that you wrote the manuscript.


FIVE: The most important reason to submit, even if you're not "ready" (whatever that is), is to open up a discourse with editors.

My second book went out to Silhouette - in New York! - and provided my first book rejection. That rejection letter says, "your overall romantic relationship lacks real substance and emotional complexity." It also said a couple of good things.

Actually, the relationship between the hero and heroine had ZERO substance and their emotions were groundless. The editor was RIGHT ON.

She was looking for a particular product and she told me what my product was missing. Of course, writing is an art form so it's subjective. Which makes producing products a little bit tricky.  That's why we need feedback.

She also said, "Our readers fall in love with characters that reach out and touch their hearts."

She was telling me what product she wanted. What she said in business language was: "the product you produced is not up to our standards.  Here are our standards."

What she implied but did not say was "Raise the quality of your product and try again." That is useful feedback and should be taken as such. It does not mean YOU ARE A REJECT.

So I took that rejection in the spirit in which it was offered. I immediately sent her another query letter. I asked if she wanted to see my next project.

Two weeks later she requested it.

Not only was I receiving useful information about her needs, she was learning something about me, too. WE HAD A DIALOGUE GOING. She now knew two things about me that I wanted her to know.  One, I had the ability to complete whole manuscripts quickly (which editors like), and two, I had some professional detachment from my work. (Which editors also like).

The next time I had a project I wanted her to look at, I skipped the query letter and picked up the phone. By that time, we had met at a conference, talked on the phone, and discussed my manuscripts and her needs by mail.

WE HAD ENOUGH OF A RELATIONSHIP that I could call her out of the blue.

And guess what? She wanted to see that partial. She asked for it right away. AND she gave me advance notice that their office was moving, AND that's the partial that she later read and requested the full manuscript for. So, even though my first manuscript was nowhere near publishable, the relationship that came from it has been useful, and will hopefully be more useful still.

The editor saw, in my writing, professionalism and persistence, a person who might someday create a product that will make her company money. In business language I am a "good prospect".

I am not a Reject.

About the Author: Candice Vetter has been getting rejections for
four years and is now a busy freelancer.

This article first appeared in the October 2003 issue of "Imagination in Flight," the newsletter of the New England Chapter of Romance Writers of America (NECRWA). Permission is granted for sister chapters to reprint or forward with appropriate credit and notification.


The following article first appeared in the March 2004 issue of The Love Knot, the newsletter of the Ottawa Romance Writer's Association. Permission granted to sister chapters to use with proper credits.