Like everyone, I’ve had a lot of rejections. Usually form rejections. I brushed myself off and moved on. But none of them stung as badly as this one.
83 days— twenty three days over their posted “get back to you” deadline, all leading to a form rejection.
Wow. I was speechless. Took me a while to get over it. I mean, I understand that publishers are busy, but when they have had the manuscript so long that they probably read the whole thing, and maybe even had several people read it, and then getting a form rejection?????
I’d just love to know— was it good enough? Did they have two alien novels on their desk that were great, and someone flipped a coin? Do they have an explosion phobia? Do they not like the color purple? What was it?
It took me a full day to get over this. Once I did, I dusted myself off and started reading my novel from page one.
Picking myself up, and getting back to it.
You know what? I was amazed. After not reading my novel for several months, I found myself instantly engrossed, and stunned when I realized “Hey, I actually wrote this.”
I know why the publisher had it so long, now.
It’s good. Damn good.
I was probably rejected for one of those silly reasons you read about… like they already signed a sci-fi this month, or someone spilling their coffee or something.
My novel just needs to find the right person. Someone who loves the idea as much as I do.
I’m fine. I’ll get there. Patience has never been my strong suit. In the immortal words of Yoda “You must learn patience.”
There is still one more publisher on my “wish list” reading my baby. Maybe they are “the one”.
So I sit back, relax, and hunker down into my new novel.
This sucker ain’t gonna get written on its own.