Rejection Angst? Try my Rule of Ten!

Years ago, after struggling with repeated rejection angst, I developed my Rule of Ten (Minutes). At first it was a Rule of One (Day). But as my skin thickened, I started to believe agents when they explained that they repeatedly reject worthy books simply because those books “just aren’t right for them.” So I shortened my one day to one hour, and ultimately, to ten minutes.

Here’s the rule: If I receive a rejection, I can wallow in self pity, pull my hair, wail, rip the rejection to shreds, burn it, whatever soothes my soul, but only for ten minutes. Then I’m done. Fini. Minute eleven finds me pressing the “send” button on a new query.

This does require some preparation. I have to know who is next on my list. (Heh!) I have to be certain they’re currently accepting queries and passionate about my genre. I have to keep my query letter fresh. Plus, if I’m away from my “home” computer, I have to have the discipline to not open an email from an agent or editor until I’m poised for action and ready to react at minute eleven.

While this might sound like a game, and perhaps it is, the Rule of Ten works. On minute eleven, optimism reigns yet again. My new query is off and this new agent or editor might love my work. I might receive a great offer!

But let’s get back to coping with a potential rejection. Yes, when a writer offers their beloved novel to an agent or editor, we are handing them part of our soul and rejection is painful. But remind yourself, a query is a business letter, as is the dreaded rejection letter. Sure, a standard “form” rejection that’s been used thousands of times might feel more like a kick in the gut than business as usual, but if we had to read and respond to 500 queries a week, every week, it might seem more logical and less hurtful.

With the Rule of Ten firmly in place, and after numerous rejections, what ultimately evolved was that I no longer needed even ten minutes to wallow and mope. Yes, I often experienced a pang or two, but my Rule of Ten kept me positive and enthusiastic about getting published. And it worked!

While I’m not blasé about receiving rejection letters, by sending another query at minute eleven, I know I’ll have new hope. I then type happily onward rather than beating my breast for weeks and vowing never to send another query. Or worse yet, vowing to abandon all hope and never write again. In the next few weeks, when I again begin to send out queries, I shall apply my Rule of Ten. Who’s with me?

by Janet Fogg

Janet is the author of Soliloquy, an award-winning historical romance, and co-author of the military history bestseller, Fogg in the Cockpit.

Edited and reprinted from 2011.

1,254 days from query to contract. But who's counting?

Me!

The publication trek can be exhausting, discouraging, debilitating, frustrating, and yes, even exhilarating. As so many of us grind through an emotional and consuming submission process, I decided to pause for a moment, to look back in time.

Fogg in the Cockpit was released a year ago, after a long publication journey. Were our travails abnormal or fairly typical? From rejections, to no responses, to referrals, to a contract offer that faded to naught, to a lost manuscript, to multiple offers, everything seemed to happen. Ultimately though, we landed a contract with Casemate, a terrific, supportive publisher.

My husband and I started working on this book in 2004 and completed the first 60,000 word draft in early 2007. It was time to send out queries!

• 1st Query 03/24/07 Talbot Fortune Agency: Rejection
  2nd Query 04/02/07 Dystel & Goderich Literary Management: Rejection 
• 3rd Query 05/07/07 Stackpole Books: No response 
• 4th Query 07/30/07 Potomac Books: Rejection 
• 5th Query 05/08/08 University Press of New England: Rejection 
• 6th Query 05/08/08 Naval Institute Press: Rejection 
• 7th Query 05/11/08 Carlton Publishing Group: No response 
• 8th Query 05/11/08 Burford Books: 06/12/08 Burford requested sample chapters, 06/20/08 sent sample chapters, 06/21/08 declined 
• 9th Query 05/11/08 Westholme Publishing: No response
• 10th Query 05/11/08 Camroc Press: 05/13/08 Camroc requested sample chapters, 06/20/08 Camroc requested full manuscript, 07/03/08 declined and suggested we try a university press 
• 11th Query 05/18/08 WW Norton: No response 
• 12th Query 05/28/08 Skyhorse Publishing: Rejection 
• 13th Query: 05/29/08 to Hellgate Press: No response for 21 months (see below) 
• 14th Query: 05/30/08 to Schiffer Publishing: Rejection 
• 15th Query: 07/08/08 to Utah State University Press: 07/09/08 USU requested two copies of full manuscript, 07/10/08 USU acknowledged receipt of manuscripts via email, no further response 
• 16th Query7/25/08 to University Press of Kentucky: Rejection
• 17th Re-query 11/21/08 to Stackpole (referral from one of their authors): Rejection
• 18th Query 03/09/09 to University of Oklahoma Press 03/16/09: requested full, no further response despite several follow-up emails
• 19th Query 05/01/09 to FPP Aviation: 05/03/09 FPP requested full manuscript, 05/05/09 sent full manuscript

Months passed. Who said silence is golden? I would rather receive a rejection than no response!

We decided to self-publish, read Lulu’s guidelines and registered with them. Then dogged determination visited and we decided to send out a few more queries. Just a few.

Our last salvo:

• 20th Query December 29, 2009 to Norlights Press: Rejected
• 21st Query January 3, 2010 to Casemate Publishers

I have to pause now to re-visit the 19th Query that we sent on 05/01/09. On 02/18/10 we received an email from FPP stating they wanted to make an offer. (Happy dance!) On 02/23/10 we met with publisher, received a verbal contract offer, and were told that a contract would follow. On 03/27/10 we sent a follow-up email re: status of contract.  No response.

Yet again that dreaded no response.

But then everything happened at once.

• 03/29/10: Received a charming response to the 10th query we’d sent 21 months previously. In summary, our query and sample chapters had been misplaced by the press during a move. Hellgate requested a full manuscript which we sent 03/30/10.

One day later…

• 03/31/10: Received an email from Casemate (21st query) expressing interest. “We would be very interested to discuss this project further as we feel this is a very interesting story and perspective on the war.” 04/06/10: Casemate scheduled a conference call with us. 04/08/10: Received a verbal offer from Casemate contingent upon increasing word count from 60,000 to at least 75,000, but preferably over 100,000. 04/09/10: Sent additional material to Casemate to show that we could, indeed, increase the word count.

But wait, there’s more!

• 04/13/10: Received an offer from Hellgate, the press that had moved their offices and misplaced our query for 21 months.

Now what? Casemate was interested but we had a bird in the hand. Two, if you counted FPP, though we were now skeptical about them as they hadn’t responded to our emails.

• 04/15/10: We let Hellgate know that we had an offer from Casemate. The Hellgate editor was terrific. He assured us his offer would stand while we decided who to go with. He complimented Casemate, said they were a great press.

We debated the pros and cons of the offers. And then debated some more.

• 04/21/10: Let Casemate know that we had an offer from Hellgate.

Paranoia reigned. No word from Casemate.

• 05/14/10: Casemate scheduled a conference call to review contract terms.
• 05/25/10: Back to the 19th Query, FPP. Still no response to our follow-up emails or a voice mail, so we sent a letter and email withdrawing our manuscript.
• 05/25/10: Let Hellgate know that we were going to accept Casemate’s offer.
• 06/20/10: Sent additional material to Casemate with estimated new word count. 07/08/10: Still no contract draft from Casemate, sent follow-up email.

We were now considering going back to Hellgate.

• 07/26/10: Phoned Casemate and left a message re: status of contract. 07/28/10: Casemate phoned us, explained the delay, and reinforced their interest in the manuscript. Reviewed terms, deadlines, and estimated publication date. They would need the bulked up manuscript by 11/01/10. Yikes! We asked if we could have one more month, until 11/30/10. 09/01/10: Received the contract.

We received the contract!

• Deadline for submittal of the bulked-up manuscript was 11/01/10.  

Wait! What happened to the extra month we requested?  Oh well, we can do it!

• 09/03/10: Mailed signed contract to Casemate.

Time for champagne! Pop!!

This might have been an overly verbose way of reminding everyone, including myself, that it takes stamina, persistence, and determination to get published. To borrow from Galaxy Quest, a shorter message might be, “Never give up! Never surrender!” 

by Janet Fogg

Janet Fogg is the author of Soliloquy, an award-winning historic romance, and co-author of the military history bestseller, Fogg in the Cockpit.

You SUCK! (Or I’m Okay, You’re a Terrible Writer)

Written by j.a. kazimer last April 2010...

You Suck! Part I

How many people have to say you suck before you give up your dream of writing, and ‘get a real’ job? One? Ten? A hundred? Five hundred? How about 1,000? Congratulations to me, I officially suck!

Recently, I received the dreaded 1,000 rejection. Neatly typed in a form letter. It read something like: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! Or at least that’s what the words, formed so prettily, said to me. Now mind you, 1,000 people haven’t told me that I suck. THAT would be humiliating. Nope, faceless emails from faceless agents, editors and interns at publishing houses have had that honor. And it must be an honor, because, well, I hear it so damn much!

And it doesn’t get any better once you land an agent. Not even a little bit. You see, my rejection is now a shared endeavor. Not only do I suck, but my poor agent sucks by proxy. Thankfully, when I signed my agent agreement, we agreed on a YOU SUCK clause. In other words, she doesn’t send me every rejection letter. She does pass along the ones that offer suggestions, or say nice things. I really hate those. You know the ones. They say stuff like LOVED your voice, LOVED the characters, LOVED the plot, but the young adult-urban fantasy-serial killer-one-armed detective market just isn’t selling right now...

Go figure.

But you know what? One day it will, and then I’ll plaster the walls of my multi-million dollar mansion (thanks to my 7,000 book deal) with every rejection letter, email, and smoke signal ever received.

Or not.

Either way, rejection can’t kill you. Oh, it can sting and make you cry like a little kid, but it won’t kill you. You will live on to stare at a blank screen. To wonder how to arrange the perfect scene. To stage the perfect murder. To write another manuscript about vampire girl scouts with the ability to sell cookies at lightening speed.

When your next rejection letter comes, and it will, even famous authors are rejected sometimes, open it up, read it slowly aloud in your best I SUCK voice, and hit delete. Then pop open your word processor, and start writing...

‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times for selling cookies. Thin Mints won’t sell themselves...’ I think I’m on to something...

April 2011...

You SUCK! Part II

Alas, I wasn’t onto anything. But as I sit at my computer, today, right now, this very minute, I can say that a lot has changed in one year. Sure, the Girl Scout, one armed serial killer thing didn’t quite work out, but a couple of other books did. As I write this post, I am finally a published author; in fact, by this time next year I will have three books in print, with a fourth on its way. I’m not saying this to brag. I swear. Okay, maybe just so you'll like me...

But really I’m telling you this because realizing your publication dream can take a split second, a chance encounter, a bit of luck. For so long I thought that I sucked and had the rejections to prove it (and while I still suck in plenty of ways), I don’t suck at telling a story. And neither do you. So take a chance, send out that 1035th query letter, risk it all, because you too can be writing from your freshly purchased mansion decorated in rejection letters.

Okay, more like a cardboard box under a viaduct off Speer, but that’s not the point, persistence makes us great writers (and stalkers). So keep trying until Janet Reid has to take a restraining order out on you! BTW, anyone know a good lawyer?

Rejection angst? Try my Rule of Ten!

From the (very messy) desk of Janet Fogg.

Years ago, after struggling with repeated rejection angst, I developed my Rule of Ten (Minutes). At first it was a Rule of One (Day). But as my skin thickened, I started to believe agents when they explained that they repeatedly reject worthy books simply because those books “just aren’t right for them.” So I shortened my one day to one hour, and ultimately, to ten minutes.

Here’s the rule: If I receive a rejection, I can wallow in self pity, pull my hair, wail, rip the rejection to shreds, burn it, whatever soothes my soul, but only for ten minutes. Then I’m done. Fini. Minute eleven finds me pressing the “send” button on a new query.

This does require some preparation. I have to know who is next on my list. (Heh!) I have to be certain they’re currently accepting queries and passionate about my genre. I have to keep my query letter fresh. Plus, if I’m away from my “home” computer, I have to have the discipline to not open an email from an agent or editor until I’m poised for action and ready to react at minute eleven.

While this might sound like a game, and perhaps it is, the Rule of Ten works. On minute eleven, optimism reigns yet again. My new query is off and this new agent or editor might love my work. I might receive a great offer!

But let’s get back to coping with a potential rejection. Yes, when a writer offers their beloved novel to an agent or editor, we are handing them part of our soul and rejection is painful. But remind yourself, a query is a business letter, as is the dreaded rejection letter. Sure, a standard “form” rejection that’s been used thousands of times might feel more like a kick in the gut than business as usual, but if we had to read and respond to 500 queries a week, every week, it might seem more logical and less hurtful.

With the Rule of Ten firmly in place, and after numerous rejections, what ultimately evolved was that I no longer needed even ten minutes to wallow and mope. Yes, I often experienced a pang or two, but my Rule of Ten kept me positive and enthusiastic about getting published. And it worked!

While I’m not blasé about receiving rejection letters, by sending another query at minute eleven, I know I’ll have new hope. I then type happily onward rather than beating my breast for weeks and vowing never to send another query. Or worse yet, vowing to abandon all hope and never write again. In the next few weeks, when I again begin to send out queries, I shall apply my Rule of Ten. Who’s with me?

(This time next week? Join me for: Don't edit yet! Take nine!)