They Can Tell You No, but…

 
So just this morning I listened to a podcast where a well-published novelist told a story we’ve heard variations of before… her last few books hadn’t sold very well, her editor thought the latest book she’d turned in (under contract) wasn’t very good, and they wouldn’t be publishing it. And when asked by the distraught author about what could be done to make it better, the editor basically said, “Nothing.”
 
The author was understandably devastated, but after a lot of stress, depression, and tears, she heard about a young editor at another house who might be looking for something like what she’d written. So she submitted it there, and the new editor acquired it. At some point during the process the author told her new editor that her old house didn’t think it would sell. The editor laughed and said, “Oh, it’ll sell!”
 
The punchline: It came out and was an instant NYT Bestseller. (Yay!)
 
The follow-up: The original publisher then contacted the author’s agent and asked if the author wanted to come back. (The agent politely responded in the negative… duh.)
 
The dirty little secret: This has happened to more authors than you might think.
 
Part of it’s that even people working at major houses aren’t immune to the problem of conflating sales with talent. Part of it’s that being able to do a good job of editing a book—on a craft level—is very different from being able to prognosticate whether or not a given book will succeed in the market. (The ones I know of who can do both are typically very successful in their careers.) And finally, editorial acquisitions are sometimes influenced by the editor’s personal likes and dislikes as much as craft-centric factors.
 
The main point: This stuff is very subjective, so—for good mental health if nothing else—we should try to separate our feelings about our work (and ourselves) from the vagaries of the acquisition process. Easier said than done, but there are a few ways to re-cast it that may help…
 
[The sub-point: editors matter! Having someone who truly gets your work and what you’re trying to say with it is so important… not just in getting a book deal, but in having a successful book once it’s out in the world.]
 
It’s not all luck, but the “fortune factor” certainly plays a part. Mostly in getting your work to the right person at the right time. Which is why (a) being aware of the industry, and (b) long-term persistence are both important factors in achieving success (along with the actual writing, of course).
 
When someone passes on your work, it may simply be that she’s not the right person for it at that time. You rolled the dice on her and you crapped out. So what? If you were at a casino-night fundraiser and you got snake eyes instead of a 7 or 11 at your first table, would you say, “I must be a terrible gambler! I’m quitting!”…? No, you’d likely recognize the randomness of the outcome and move on to the next game.
 
I’m not saying it’s always a case of “It’s not us, it’s them.” Sometimes there may be a fundamental craft issue with our writing (and there are ways to tell, but that’s another post). But it’s helpful to understand and internalize the truth that even when our writing is well-crafted, pro-quality work, there are going to be agents and editors who will pass on it. Lots of them. Most of them, most of the time, to be honest. For all the reasons discussed above, and because what they’re looking for may change as the market changes… and as they change. If you peruse enough #MSWL listings, you’ll see some pretty arbitrary criteria at times. (“Occasionally looking for books featuring large felines. Stories about panthers or tigers are okay. But no leopards.”)
 
What if someone told you: “A poorly-written manuscript will very likely never get published, whereas a really well-written one probably will… assuming you’re smart about where/when to query it, work diligently at the process, and have ten truckloads of persistence.”
 
Would this change your approach?
 
If you internalize the above belief, and if you have good reason to believe you have a strong manuscript (emotive, well-crafted, voicey, with unforgettable characters), then the outcome of any single query or submission becomes significantly less perilous. Because your plan is simply to keep at it—working as smart and as hard as you can—until you achieve the desired result.
 
I once heard an agent say, speaking about her view on publishers, “They can tell me no, but they can’t tell me I’m wrong…”
 
There’s a lot of wisdom there. Yes, they can pass on your manuscript. But they can’t tell you your book will never succeed, or that you’re wrong to try, or that you shouldn’t believe in it. And they can’t keep you from turning around and submitting that same manuscript to their competitors.
 
One of whom may smile knowingly and say, “Oh, it’ll sell!”
 
 
Happy persisting!