Mark Power-Freeman's Blog: The Face Value Blues, page 2

Facing Failure

To keep myself from resubmitting rejected queries to agencies and agents I've already dealt with, I've created a tracking spreadsheet. Every time a rejection email rolls in, I update it.


It's an emotional hit every I do so: I read recently that publishers/agents reject 19 out of every 20 books they receive, and my experience supports that disheartening statistic. I've sent 14 queries, and I've received 12 rejections.

There are all kinds of coping mechanisms and mantras I can turn to as I deal with all of this. But lately I've felt like Muhammad Ali during the Rumble in the Jungle after he absorbed some of Foreman's hardest shots: I'm taking all you can throw at me, and I'm still here.

Nothing against literary agents; I know most of them are hard-working, sincere folks who are doing the best they can with what they have, and many of the rejection letters actually try hard to encourage us wannabes to keep trying. Even in a rejection letter, it's thrilling to be addressed as "Dear Author."

That said, no one likes rejection. (Or, as my brother used to say, "Show me a good loser, and I'll show you a frequent loser.")

Every time I read "Sorry, it's not for us," it's an emotional punch in the stomach. But like Ali I'm still in the fight: I'm still writing, I'm still sending out letters, and I'm still confident that eventually my query letter and writing sample will strike the fancy of the assistant to the intern to the assistant to the executive who will write me that "We love your novel and want to represent you" reply.

I'll leave the consideration of how this applies to all of our struggles in life as an exercise for the reader.

Doing It for the Fans

A few years ago, I stumbled across a blog dedicated to all the things and people in the Star Wars universe: theforce.net.

One of the things that struck me was the amount of respect and adoration given to Mr. George Lucas. Not fawning and servile: just genuine appreciation for the man and the universe he'd created for appreciative fans.

This was long before The Face Value Blues was even a gleam in my eye. But I immediately thought, "I want that. Someday, I want to have a fandom of my very own."

When The Face Value Blues became something that wouldn't leave my thoughts, even for a moment, I came up with a list of vows and affirmations declaring why I would be successful with this novel, but I forgot to include my desire for a fan base as one of them.

Now that I've finished the novel, I realize, yeah, I should have included that as part of the motivation for success, because I'm greatly looking forward to having a group of people who want -- who really want -- me to discuss every facet of the book.

I'm looking forward to discussing Neriah (probably the least understood character so far); to dissecting some of the hidden meanings in various passages; to having somebody catalog the many nods and references to other works; and, let's face it, to hearing many, many voices cry out for more stories about Mr. Pramanth and his breath-taking lack of good sense.