Computer Rejection

At the risk of overanalyzing this whole agent thing, I'm going to share another story about a recent rejection.  Here's most of the rejection email:

Thank you so much for thinking of ____ Agency for your submission. Unfortunately, it's not quite what I'm looking for at the moment. I wish I could offer a more personalized response, but do know that we read every query letter and sample we receive. Even though your project is not right for us, it might be right for another agent, so don’t give up.

Good luck with all your publishing endeavors. 

I cannot imagine how difficult agents' work must be.  Writing rejections must be very difficult.

However, this one makes me laugh a bit.

"I wish I could offer a more personalized response" points this out a little too much.  Although I kind of know that most rejections are not personalized, this one says so--perhaps a little too directly.

But then, the email goes on to add, "that we read every query letter and sample we receive."  Huh.  Two things about this.  First is that despite the computerized response, they do read everything.  

Then the second part of this is a little more subtle: the rejection shifts from a singular, personal pronoun (I) to a plural, personal pronoun (we, us) in the second part of this email.  The connotation appears to defuse the responsibility from the singular agent to a group (i.e., a group of people, not just me, decided against your work).

The ending of this impersonal rejection is a resounding good luck.  Don't give up.

I've seen more than a few of these emails over the years.  For some reason, this one made me laugh a little more than the others.  I didn't take this one as personally (ha) as I did in the past. 

Maybe I'm finally developing a sense of humor about all of this.

MWW, The Agents

I never really thought I would do this publishing, agent, marketing shtick, but here I am.

So, when I went to the MWW MidWest Agent Fest this past November, I did not have any delusions of trying to tap into the "system."  I just wanted to learn a little more about the publishing business and all--the "system" and "agents" seemed very enigmatic to me.

Funny, writing agents did seem very similar to secret agents.  They run around with special brief cases.  They read valuable documents.  They have secret contacts.  And no one knows who they are, how to meet them, or how to get to them.

I met and talked to some agents at the MWW, and they don't seem quite as mysterious as they used to.  I don't imagine New York penthouses with classy, sophisticated (and judgmental) women and men sipping martinis and deciding what the next trends in fiction will be.  They are not quite like this.

The "secret" agents seem less illusive, less intimidating--more like real people.

I sent out 4 queries about a month ago.  

I tried not to think about it.  

I have heard back from two at this time.  One, a copied, formatted, polite "no thank you."

The second was a lovely request for the full manuscript with an honest, "I do not work in this genre."  I freaked out a little and sent out the full manuscript two days later.

I tried not to think about it.

She responded a week later (wow, this doesn't really happen in the "agent" world, does it?).  She politely said she enjoyed it and thought I was a stunning writer, but she wasn't sure how to work with this and the genre.  She then suggested another agent who, she told me, might be a long shot.

What a positive experience.  She was encouraging, responsive, and helpful.  I didn't know agents could do that!

I sent out another query.  With this one and the two others I sent previously, I'm waiting on three.

I'm trying not to think about it.

MWW--the Aftermath

 The MidWest Writers Agent Fest finished a week ago.  This virtual conference held great sessions with agents, editors, and writers, and I'm still digesting all the information.

Three takeaways from this conference:

1) Although not all writers, agents, and editors like social media, everyone encourages writers to develop and increase their social media presence.  The bigger platform that a writer has to offer a publisher, the better chance a publisher has to get money from an author's work.  

2) Agents and editors are real people.  Everyone that spoke at the conference is sincere, professional, and approachable.  In addition, the agents emphasized the relationships with their writers--they believe in their writers and in what they do.  The agents and editors want the writers to succeed because they will make money, certainly, but also because they invest time and passion into them.

3) I'm not quitting my day job, but this world of agents and publishing feels very time-consuming.  To do this successfully, I'm not sure how anyone can do all this and hold a demanding job.  Writing in itself is demanding, but add in social media, query letters, extra rounds of revision, and contract negotiations, and this feels overwhelming at times.

Certainly, the agents and editors were fascinating people to hear speak, but I would like to mention two people on the board of the MWW who spoke powerfully and whose passion in this conference was above and beyond what I ever expected.  

Jama Kehoe Bigger's story is amazing.  She spoke briefly about this, and she moderated all the sessions with patience and kindness throughout.  

Also, Angela Jackson-Brown was another memorable, inspiring, and lovely author who worked in almost all the sessions.  She has a silky, soothing voice, and one of the high points of the conference was listening to her read first page submissions.  I almost fell out of my chair when I heard her read mine.

I will be following up with some agents in the coming months.  More to come about this?

MWW Fest is Back On

Back in March, the MidWest Writers Workshop fell prey to the delays of Covid-chaos of early 2020. 

The Agent Fest is back on--rescheduled and reformatted online through Zoom--and stretched over four days instead of two.

MWW Agent Fest

Strange, I am rather disappointed that this is online.  I am like many other writers, I think: we are insecure about our craft, but meeting and bonding with other writers has been encouraging and helpful to me.  Several workshops and conferences have proven to be great times of growth and learning for me as a writer.  And the personal interactions with other writers is a huge part of this.

All that to say, I never really look forward to conferences.  I always feel underprepared, insecure, and lost.  So, here I am, preparing for the Agent Fest, knowing I could rewrite this silly book another 50 times and still not be done with it.  

Oh, did I mention I will be giving a pitch?  So to torture myself more, I'm practicing pitching.  

Here's a practice run:

Let me know what you think?

Writers are Socially Distanced and Some Frankenstein

Last weekend, I was supposed to attend the MWW Agent Fest in Muncie, IN.  Of course, this, like so many events, has been postponed until further notice.

Our fiction writing group, too, has gone virtual.

I've been working from home, enjoying the life of my cats, alternating my sweat pants and drinking lots of tea but also working long and undefined hours of work.  Not seeing many people aside from my husband is a lovely break from the typical stress and chaos of my normal life.

On the other hand, I am like many other writers.  Introverted.  Withdrawn.  Not open about my writing or myself.  This silly social distancing is lovely--but I want more time in front of my laptop and with a book.  But this is never different.

These are strange times.  I'm making the most of this (I don't watch much news, so I don't get too upset by any of this), so although I suspect I am becoming more withdrawn and introverted, this feels like a lovely vacation with lots of work.

Anyway, because of my anticipated trip to the Agent Fest and hopeful rescheduled conference, I have been reworking and revising my Frank and Gala stories.

I'm posting my pitch here:

Pitch for Frank and Gala 

There's nothing new under the sun, right?

This is another Dr. Frankenstein story.  Sort of.

Dr. Frankenstein--Dr. David Levison--moves to small-town, southern Minnesota.  He teaches at the local university in the engineering department, and he brings large grants from out East somewhere.  

He is strange.  He is a mystery.

We, the town of Winona, start to talk about Dr. Levison when he starts to do really odd things.  He engineers the introduction of a woman into town.  And we, the local people, spread lots of rumors about Dr. Levison and Sherry, his unexpected monster.

Dr. Levison tells people that Sherry is his perfect woman.  He created her.  Like Pygmalion crafted his perfect woman, Dr. Levison claims he formed Sherry to be his perfect companion.

So we start calling her Galatea, and of course, we call him Dr. Frankenstein.

We tell stories about them.  Some people think she is a robot, and some people think she is a lobtomized metal patient because something is weird about her.  Very off.  She is very beautiful but not right.

These are the stories of Frank and Gala, otherwise known as Dr. David Levison and Sherry.   The stories spread like small pox in county school.  We tell about what happens to them in our little town of Winona and how Dr. Levison's experiment is much worse than we could have imagined, much more devious than we thought.

Any thoughts or comments?  Want to read this?

Feedback?

The Brave, New World of MWW

Entering January, I usually anticipate post-holiday blues.  After a few days off, some lovely if not chaotic time with family, and a bit too much food and drink, I generally approach most new years with blasé.  Sometimes even ennui.

This year is a bit different.

For Christmas, my husband bought me a ticket to the Midwest Writers Workshop, the MWW Agent Fest in March--the complete package with meetings with two agents.

I have not been active in the writing community for years outside the Indiana Writers Center--and that, mostly to go to the fiction workshop.  Going to an outside workshop and meeting agents is beyond my comfort zone--way past my fuzzy pink robe, hot tea, old green armchair, comfort zone.

Midwest Writers Workshop

Any long-time followers of this blog or anyone who knows me well, knows that I struggle with confidence in my writing.  Of course, this is not uncommon for many writers.

I even struggle with talking about writing--my writing in particular--as if my writing is my own secret world that only those closest to me might understand.  Anyone else isn't allowed into that world.  I suppose that's a trust thing.

As I am researching and exploring the information about the MWW and the workshop, I find that I am both excited and terrified.  Since Christmas day (when I saw the email from Jama Bigger, the coordinator at MWW, who, I might add, has responded to several of my emails quickly, professionally, and pleasantly), I have rewritten most of an old manuscript that I haven't looked at in years.

Funny, in looking at old work, I have a very duplicitous mind about it.  On one hand, I think, "Huh, this is pretty interesting.  An agent might be interested in this...."  And then, the proverbial devil on my other shoulder says, "I need to rewrite this another 25 times.  Even then, it won't be any good."  I know I need to be excited, to get excited, to act excited, to pretend--this is my writing, for God's sake.  If no one else can get excited about it, who will?

So, with that, I plan to go to MWW and learn how to write a decent query letter.  I will learn a bunch.  Plan on another update.  Maybe, I will think more seriously about the agent/query/publisher thing in another 10 years.

Just kidding, I think.