Crickets, Flies and Wasps

The deadline has come and gone. April is over. And all I am left with is crickets.  I submitted a short story to a group publishing a book on the COVID pandemic as experienced in Burlington, Ontario. Considering I was competing against only fellow Burlingtonians, I rather arrogantly thought my submission would be successful. Instead I was rejected by crickets. 

There is something particularly disappointing about not receiving some sort of confirmation from agents and publishers that they are not interested.  You are never sure how long you should hold out before accepting their apparent rejection of your work.  They always give you a drop dead date such the end of the month and in 8 weeks but if you feel hopeful you tell yourself to wait just a bit longer. With crickets when you finally accept your rejection, your mind fills in the spaces.  It decides how horrible your submission was and makes up everything that was wrong with it and then believes even worse.

I understand that there are many submissions, rather an enormous number of submissions, and I understand that being short staffed makes it impossible to respond to each one individually. If agents or publishers do respond it is generally a short automated reply with cut and paste personalisation features. They are like flies, numerous and harmless.

For example:

I'm sorry, but your project does not sound like a fit for me at this time, and so I will have to pass. Thank you for considering me and best of luck with your future queries.

or

Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to consider your project. I carefully read and consider each submission I receive, and I’m sorry to say that yours is not quite right for me.


Agenting is subjective, and while I couldn’t take on your project, another agent may well feel differently. I wish you the very best of luck with your work in the future and thank you for thinking of me.

 

 or

 

Thanks so much for sharing ELAGABALUS with me. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm the right agent for this project, so I will have to pass.

Please keep in mind that this is a subjective business and mine is only one opinion. I wish you all the best in your search for representation and in your writing career.

 

 or

 

Thank you for your email and for your interest in this agency. I am sorry to say that this is not the kind of book we are looking for at the moment.

Good luck with finding a suitable home for your work elsewhere.

 

All of these responses indicate their decision was made fairly quickly. They read the query and decided it was not for them. Just like looking for a novel in a bookstore, they've quickly looked at the title, the book cover or the tag line and have decided to move on to another shelf. When agents send back a short reply, it is disappointing but I'm fine with it.

The worst, even worse than the crickets, are the wasps. Those are the rejections that make you feel like you actually had a chance but that your writing failed you.

Thank you for sending me your query for OBLIVION. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I must pass on this project; I wasn’t as pulled in by the opening pages as I'd hoped.

Ouch! "as I had hoped" - that one stung, just as this one did:

 

I spent some time thinking about the potential of your story and my own expertise in relation to a potential partnership. I read each query with my own list in mind and specific genres I have a need for, and at this moment, I truly believe I am not the right agent for this project at this time. I am currently looking for a few specific stories, and this one isn't quite what I know I can take on right now.

Using the bookstore analogy again - it was as if she had picked up the book and read the back cover and a few pages before putting it back on the shelf. I had piqued her interest but my writing did not deliver.

It is challenging to continue to believe in yourself and your work. Getting published is an up hill battle. On days when I am feeling positive I send out queries and hope for the best.  On those when I am feeling down, I shy away and hide my work and listen to the crickets.