Category: Articles-77-Reasons (Page 4 of 16)

An Editorial Team reason for rejection

“My grandfather, the knife fighter, killed two Germans before he was eighteen.” 

When I read this first line from David Benioff’s book, City of Thieves, I was hooked. I was actually standing in the grocery store, just passing a few minutes while I waited for my wife. But after that first line, I couldn’t bear to part with the book. I ended up buying it along with a gallon of milk and some frozen pizza.

That’s the power of a good first line—it demands the reader’s attention. It captures the imagination in such a way that the reader can’t help but keep going. Consider these classic first lines from literary history: 

• “It was a pleasure to burn.”—Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451 

• “Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin.”—A.A. Milne in Winnie-the-Pooh

• “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”—J.D. Salinger in The Catcher in the Rye

• “I met Jack Kennedy in November, 1946.”—Norman Mailer in An American Dream

What all of these first lines have in common is that they cannot be ignored. Every single one makes you, the reader, ask the question, “Well, what happens next?” And that means it passes the “First Line Test” that so many editors and agents use (myself included). 

And you, dear reader? If you can master the art of the first line, well, I’m going to have a hard time rejecting your work. I’ll be too busy reading on to find out what happens next.

What You Can Do About It

1. Understand what a first line must accomplish. 

The first line of any book—fiction or nonfiction—makes a promise to the reader about the rest of your book. Thus, your first line must accomplish these things: 

• Create curiosity. It must make the reader ask, “What happens next?”

• Demonstrate credibility. It must make the reader believe, “This author can be trusted with my reading time.”

• Evoke emotion. It must make the reader feel something—anticipation, fear, joy, surprise, whatever your book needs the reader to feel.

If you can create a first line (and first paragraph) that does these three things, you are already well ahead of your competition—and past the first line of defense from editors and agents who want to reject your work.

2. Read a row of first lines. 

This is a simple writing exercise that’s also fun and effective. If you feel the need to get better at first lines, then inundate yourself with them.

Go to your local bookstore or library and find the section that represents your chosen category of writing. For instance, if you’re a business writer, go to the Business section, or if you’re a crime novelist then go to Crime Novels section.

Pick a shelf of books in that section, then begin at one end and pull a book off the rack. Open to the introduction or first chapter, and read only the first line (or maybe the first paragraph) and then rate that book on a scale of 1 to 10 for its first-line effectiveness. Go all the way down the shelf, rating the first lines of the books you see. Afterward, go back to the books you rated 8 or higher and re-read those lines, asking yourself: What is it about this first line that earns a high rating? And what can I learn from that to apply to my own writing?

When you’re done, you’ll know more about writing than most authors—and you’ll be well on your way to crafting a first line that leads to publication.

3. Always ask yourself: Will they read on?

I spoke at a writer’s conference once and sat on a panel called, “Will They Read On?” Conference attendees had submitted a first page to any of their works—fiction or nonfiction. One by one, each “first page” was read aloud. Then the panel of agents and editors answered one simple question: “If you had received this proposal, would you read on?”

I was astounded at how many times the answer to that question was “no.” That’s not because I thought the panel was being too tough; rather, it was shocking to hear out loud the number of aspiring writers who had absolutely no idea how to start a book. The two or three that had mastered the craft of the beginning easily stood out.

So use that knowledge to your advantage. Every time you write a first line, or a first paragraph, or a first page, imagine yourself at this writer’s conference with people reading aloud your work. And ask yourself, “Will these editors and agents want to read on?” Keep revising until your answer is irresistibly, unequivocally, yes.

Looking for more? Check out these links:

• Mikey Can’t Sleep blog
• Mikey Timeline
• Fan-Favorite Books
• Mikey on Amazon

An Editorial Team reason for rejection

If you have to get rejected (and you do), then at least this is a good reason for it. Here’s the way it works: 

Although there are obvious exceptions, most editors plan their seasonal lists between 12 to 18 months in advance. For instance, this book you’re holding in your hands was actually contracted about 14 months before its initial release. I’ve had books released as early as nine months after contract, and others released a far off as 26 months. But typically anywhere from 12 to 18 months is normal.

Additionally, due to resource constraints (including human resources as well as cash flow) and market timing issues, a publishing house can only release a certain number of books in each season. This can be as few as one or two (for small publishers) or as many as a few hundred (for the major New York houses). Regardless, there are still a finite number of slots available in a publishing list each season. Each time a book is approved and contracted, it fills one of those slots.

Now, if I’m planning my spring/summer list for next year and I’ve only got 20 slots to fill, what am I going to do with that 21^st book that’s contracted? Well, I’ll go ahead and drop it into one of the slots for the fall/winter list. But what happens if there are cutbacks at my publishing house and my fall/winter list get trimmed down to only 12 slots? Or what if a series I acquired two years ago is scheduled to release a new book in fall? Or what if last month I got three outstanding proposals that I also contracted and dropped into my fall/winter list?

Well, now it’s possible that I’m getting too far ahead in my acquisitions schedule. Instead of being 18 months out, I may be forced into planning 24 or 30 months into the future. That’s just too long to be able to predict with any real accuracy the success of a book. Our world moves too fast, and public opinions change too quickly. If I’m smart (and most editors are), I’m going to resist packing a book line beyond the next 18 months.

Ah, now you see the problem, right? What if your proposal lands on my desk right at the time when my publishing list for the next 18 months is already packed? Well, even if I want to publish your book, I’m going to look at my calendar, shake my head, and send it back to you with a rejection letter. And the scapegoat I’ll use is that silly old calendar that only allows 12 months in each year.

What You Can Do About It

1. Stay current on the economic news about the publishing industry. 

This may not actually get you a contract, but it will help you to know when publishers are expanding or cutting titles. An e-newsletter like PW Daily (from Publisher’s Weekly) is an invaluable source of this kind of information. In fact, if you don’t already have a free subscription to this e-newsletter, then put down this book right now and go sign up for it. Go to PublishersWeekly.com and click on the “E-Newsletters” tab at the top of the page.

Once you’re getting a steady stream of publishing industry news, pay attention to layoff announcements. A cutback in personnel is almost always accompanied by a cutback in titles to be published, simply because there aren’t enough people left to maintain the previous load. Also look at quarterly profit statement announcements. A company that’s crowing about exceeding profit expectations also has money to spend on new books. And go ahead and check the job boards at a few companies. If one particular company is hiring several positions, that means cash flow is good and they are already planning to expand for the future.

2. Try pitching new books early in the year. 

For many publishers, the new fiscal year starts January 1. Because of the spirit of a “New Year,” that’s also when many editors take a little time to get organized, catch up on dormant proposals, and begin laying out the pieces of their upcoming publishing plan. 

You see the opportunities that arise from this kind of timing, right? If your editor’s departmental budget is suddenly flush with money again, and if the change from December to January already has her thinking brightly of the future, this could be a good time to pitch her a new idea. 

One warning though: you won’t be the only one to try and take advantage of this situation. You’ll probably have increased competition for the editor’s attention in January and February, so make sure your book stands out!

3. Wait it out.

If you get a rejection because an editor’s publishing list is already full for several seasons ahead, you can also try to wait it out and re-submit. Be sure to ask permission, and if it’s granted, wait six months or a year and send a new query (reminding that you were invited to re-submit). This is kind of a longshot, and yes, it postpones your publishing opportunities, but in cases where the editor likes you already it can work.

Looking for more? Check out these links:

• Mikey Can’t Sleep blog
• Mikey Timeline
• Fan-Favorite Books
• Mikey on Amazon

An Editorial Team reason for rejection

I know. This seems irrelevant at best, and unwarranted at worst. But it still happens, so you’d better get used to it.

This reason for rejection actually covers all the emotional and physical stresses associated with being human, and in those situations timing is everything. My reaction to your proposal is influenced if I’ve read it after I’ve just had a fight with my wife, or after I’ve just had to ground my son for missing his curfew, or while I’m in the middle of a long argument with my next door neighbor, of when I’m suffering from the effects of allergy season, or in the morning after a night of insomnia or…well, you get the idea.

I remember one time I was compiling a book of short plays for teenagers. I’d put together several different authors, and had cherry-picked one writer in particular—let’s call her Cocoa— because I knew she was one of the most creative, articulate writers I knew. Then, as I edited, I began passing them one-by-one to our Chief Creative Officer for her approval.

Imagine my surprise when Cocoa’s excellent manuscript was sent back to me with the note, “I didn’t really enjoy this one. Let’s cut it and find another.”

I re-read Cocoa’s script, laughed in all the right places, and for the life of me couldn’t see why it hadn’t sailed through to publication. So I took a risk and went back to my CCO to ask about it.

“Oh, you know,” she said sheepishly, “we were watching our friend’s pet bird while they were on vacation—and the bird died! I read this play right during the stress of trying to figure out how to tell our friends that heartbreaking news.” Then she generously said, “Let me read it again this weekend, and I’ll let you know what I think.”

Next time I saw the play, it had a bright smiley face on it. “Love it!” my CCO said. And that was that.

Still, the fact is, Cocoa’s script almost didn’t see the light of day because my CCO read it during a time of great stress. And that’s what might happen to you if an editor reads your proposal after just having a fight with her husband, or just hearing his daughter has wrecked the car, or whatever. Consider yourself warned.

What You Can Do About It

1. If you’re religious, go ahead and pray. (If not, skip to #2 below.) 

I’m not one who’s opposed to the idea of God being involved in a publishing career, but if you are then feel free to ignore this suggestion.

If you’re like me, however, then I’d suggest that you go ahead and pray before you send out any query letter or proposal. Ask God to direct the path your proposal takes at a publishing house, and to bring it to the attention of people who might feel favorably toward it. Hey, what can you lose? 

2. Pay attention to Facebook and Twitter. 

Most editors are vain creatures, and it’s likely they weren’t among the “popular kids” back in their high school days. More likely, they were the mousy loners who wrote stories during study hour and hung out in some nerd’s basement playing Dungeons and Dragons or watching classic movies at night. They probably weren’t total outcasts, but they definitely weren’t invited to all the cool parties either.

Fast-forward to today and these former societal outcasts have achieved a place of minor importance in the real world. And believe it or not, they often like the fictional popularity that comes with having a number of “Friends” or “Followers” on Facebook and Twitter. As a result, they’ll probably accept your Friend Request on Facebook, even though they don’t have a clue who you are. Same goes for Twitter followers.

What does that mean for you? Well, if you’re smart, you’ll pay attention when those editor types update their status on Twitter and Facebook. When they’re updating about some personal success (“We finally finished the bathroom remodel – it looks great!”), you’ll try to tag along with that good feeling by submitting a proposal via email. If the editor’s personal status updates are all about how the pipes burst in her home or how his whole family is worn out from cold and flu season … well, common sense would dictate that’s probably not the best time to submit a book idea. After all, timing really can be everything.

3. Move on.

Hey, sometimes unfair things happen in life. You can’t control the emotional state of the editor or agent who reads your work, or even when that person reads it. So if an editor rejects your outstanding book because he or she is feeling grumpy and stressed, don’t waste time aggravating the situation. Move on to greener pastures—and make that editor feel even worse when you hit the bestseller list with another publisher.

Looking for more? Check out these links:

• Mikey Can’t Sleep blog
• Mikey Timeline
• Fan-Favorite Books
• Mikey on Amazon

An Editorial Team reason for rejection

Reading, in my view, should be a simple, pleasant experience. 

Even when dealing with complex topics and weighty intellectual issues, a manuscript should never lead the reader toward confusion or away from understanding. Unfortunately, too many writers think more about themselves than they do about the reader. They think writing is about looking smart, or presenting a superior argument to a lesser mind. These people most often remain unpublished (though some do thrive in the so-called “Academic” category).

I like the way six-year-old Calvin describes this attitude in the classic cartoon strip, Calvin & Hobbes. “The purpose of writing,” he lectures while creating a book report titled The Dynamics of Interbeing and Monological Imperatives in Dick and Jane, “is to inflate weak ideas, obscure poor reasoning, and inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and impenetrable fog!”

You see the point here, don’t you? (And no, I’m not just picking on scholarly publications.) If you want to pursue a successful career in publishing, you’ll need to learn how to think first of your reader. This applies both to nonfiction and fiction writers alike. It does no one any good if you use your writing simply as an opportunity to brandish your education or expansive vocabulary. What matters is that your audience finds your writing accessible, interesting, and worth the time spent reading it. 

This is not to say, of course, that you should “dumb down” your writing at all, or that you must express yourself only in terms of the lowest common denominator on your given topic. Nor does this assume that you must be simple-minded in order to be successful as an author. 

But it is to say that if you are needlessly obfuscatory, I shall expeditiously eschew your entreaty to broker financial arrangements for your forthcoming monograph. ‘Nuff said.

What You Can Do About It

1. Take a lesson from Calvin & Hobbes. 

Simplify your prose to deliver complex, elegant ideas. 

Don’t get caught up in the “monological imperatives in Dick and Jane”—that is, don’t use words to inhibit the clarity of your thoughts, in spite of how much you like them. Instead, use your words to bring force and relevance to your ideas in the minds of your readers. 

Here’s a quick way to check whether you are avoiding the Calvin & Hobbes conundrum: Take a page (or two) of your work and simply read it out loud. Sure, you’ll sound like a moron to anyone within earshot, but more importantly you’ll discover with your own ears if your writing is actually readable. 

Writing that’s well-crafted and understandable flows easily when read aloud. If you find yourself stumbling, or pausing to gather the words in your mouth, or even stopping completely because you got tripped up while reading, then mark where that happens. Those are the sections that need to be rewritten so they’re clearer and more accessible to readers. 

2. Eschew Obfuscation 

Or rather, keep away from confusing prose. 

This can deal with your specific word choices, your sentence and paragraph structure, or even in the overall outline and flow of your thinking. 

Believe it or not, simple, elegant writing doesn’t happen by accident and it doesn’t come naturally to a lot of people. More often than not, it’s the uneducated author that tries to impose confusing elements onto a piece of writing. At its heart, this kind of mistake is a matter of trying to fit in, of attempting to earn respect by filling your work with things that you think others admire.

Truth is, readers admire clear, uncomplicated thinking—even in matters of great complexity and intellectual depth. 

So don’t ask yourself, “What can I say on this subject?” but instead ask, “What do my readers need to know to understand this subject or this story?” Then proceed accordingly.

3. Write for academic publishers.

If you absolutely can’t write with everyday clarity on a subject, then you’re going to have to go into academia. You’ll need a few advanced degrees and a dedication to reach an isolated audience that’s often out of touch with current thinking. But if this style of writing suits you, then you can succeed in this publishing category so feel free to pursue that option.

Looking for more? Check out these links:

• Mikey Can’t Sleep blog
• Mikey Timeline
• Fan-Favorite Books
• Mikey on Amazon

An Editorial Team reason for rejection

Dear Mike,

Look at these adorable pictures of my kitties eating supper off china plates. Everyone should see this! That’s why I’d like you to represent my coffee table book filled entirely with pictures of cats eating fancy food on expensive tableware…

Sincerely,

Cat-Lady

Dear Cat-Lady,

No thanks.

Mike

Dear Mike,

OK, I know you didn’t like the Cats-n-China idea, but you’re going to love this one: How about a fictional biography of my childhood? I can fudge a few historical papers and voila—I’m a survivor of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster! No one would check out the stories, I’m sure, and besides if they did the controversy would sell more books…

Cat-Lady Survivor-Woman

Dear Survivor-Woman,

No…just…no.

Mike

Dear Mike,

Hey, it’s me again! Cat-Lady Survivor-Woman, and…

Dear Cat-Lady Survivor-Woman,

NO.NO.NO.NO. Whatever it is…NO!

Mike

Yes, my examples here are a little extreme, but you get the idea. 

When you’re sending out pitches to editors and agents, you must remember that your name is irrevocably associated in my mind with whatever you send. If you send me one awful idea, I’ll probably shrug my shoulders and move on to whatever’s next in my pile. If you send me two awful ideas in a row, you’ve just earned yourself a brand name—and it’s not a good one. 

You see, for me (and for most other agents and editors), it’s two strikes and you’re out. After you send me two obviously unpublishable books, it’s unlikely that I’ll give your third book more than a glance. After all, I will instinctively consider the source. “Isn’t this that strange lady who wanted to fabricate her childhood? No thanks.” 

Hey, your third book might be a legitimate bestseller destined to make millions, but in my eyes you’ll be like “the boy who cried wolf” in the old fairy tale. I definitely won’t come running when you call.

So be careful what you send me. Every word you write shapes your reputation in my eyes. And if you send me garbage twice in a row, the third time you won’t even make it in the front door.

What You Can Do About It

1. Guard your reputation like a brand name. 

As an agent, I’m extremely careful about what I will and won’t send out to editors. My own authors will testify that I’m sometimes a big pain in the butt in that regard. If I don’t think their writing is up to quality, I’ll insist that they rewrite until it is. Why? Because once I attach my agency name to their writing, we are all judged the same. I can’t afford for Nappaland Literary to be associated with poor writing, or else editors will stop listening when I pitch new books and new authors to them.

You need to guard your authorial reputation with the same tenacity. 

Rejection in itself is no shame. But rejection because your writing is awful, your ideas are weak, or your perception of quality is woefully inaccurate—that’s a death sentence in terms of a writer’s career. 

You must remember that every time you write something and send it out, those words shape an editor’s perception of you and the product (writing) that you are selling. That determines your reputation in the writing community—and your reputation can often mean everything. 

So make sure to guard your good name among editors and agents—and never let yourself be accused of sending out two bad proposals in a row.

2. Send to the right targets. 

One reason authors are ignored by editors and agents is because they prove themselves to be irrelevant. Just as bad as sending me two awful book ideas is sending me two proposals that obviously aren’t what I’d publish. 

This ties into what we discussed earlier in Reason #7, but it bears repeating. If you want to get my attention, you’ve got to appeal to the audience I’m trying to reach. If you consistently send me books that don’t do that, pretty soon I’m giving up on you. You’ll get that form letter rejection before I even read your cover email.

So take care to send your proposal to the right people—to editors and/or agents who might actually want to buy it. (Read more about this at Reason #7)

3. Take time to become a better writer.

If you’re getting rejected on the basis of the quality of your manuscripts or the appeal of your ideas, it’s time to step back from the business side of writing and concentrate on the craft instead. Too many people like the idea of “being a writer” more than they like doing the work of a writer. Make sure you are someone in that second category and not the first.

Sometimes you have to admit that your writing needs to improve. Instead of whining about how no one will publish your work, learn how to create works that people have to publish in spite of themselves. Self-study opportunities are available in the writing reference section of your local library. You can also join a local writing group where so-called friends will gleefully rip apart your work and (hopefully) help you make it stronger. Creative writing classes are taught at just about every university and community college in the nation as well.

If you don’t want to get a reputation for mediocrity—and you want to avoid being ignored on the editorial desk—do what it takes to get better. (Whining is optional.)

Looking for more? Check out these links:

• Mikey Can’t Sleep blog
• Mikey Timeline
• Fan-Favorite Books
• Mikey on Amazon