Rejection
My wife unearthed my rejection letters' folder yesterday and I immediately made the decision to put it in the re-cycling. After all what possible use could it be?
However, upon leafing through it today I rescinded that decision for what I discovered was an interesting 'document' which catalogued not only my own career as a writer but also the enormous changes in the publishing industry.
My first rejection letter concerned 'Sun, Sand and the Sergeant-Major' an account of my time in the Gulf War. The earliest rejection letters are dated 1995. Back then a writer could submit their books directly to a publisher and the publisher would respond in person and possibly with a bit of useful feedback.
This was my first book and I knew it was a sure fire hit... just as the publishing industry knew it wasn't.
That particular book re-surfaced over the years as, 'The Tideless Beach', 'Oil Wells That End Well' and 'Gas, Gas, Gas!' Eventually a small section of it was published in a book called 'The Groundcrew Boys', published by Grub Street, one of many publishers who had rejected the original manuscript. In that respect it was not a total waste of time.
The same cannot be said for my next three books, all of which were garbage. 'On The Side Of The Enemy', 'The Innocent Accomplice' and 'Neil Barrie Still Eats Pies', will never see the light of day.
As time moved on and the widespread use of the PC encouraged more and more people to write, so things changed in publishing to the extent that only a manuscript presented by and agent would be considered. This reflected in a huge swathe of fresh rejection letters from literary agents. I was still being rejected and was even further removed from the actual publishers than I had ever been.
I kept writing.
I kept being rejected.
The next change, which happened more slowly than you might imagine, was that submissions were made via the internet rather than by post. This meant that my rejection letters gradually stopped coming and a new era of disappointment was ushered in via my email.
It was a massive change and no change at all. Rejection is rejection, regardless of the means of delivery.
It's been years since I received any form of rejection simply because, with the advent of Kindle, I stopped bothering with publishers. It's all academic now anyway. Hobart Books is my publisher - literally - if you'll forgive the pun.
However, upon leafing through it today I rescinded that decision for what I discovered was an interesting 'document' which catalogued not only my own career as a writer but also the enormous changes in the publishing industry.
My first rejection letter concerned 'Sun, Sand and the Sergeant-Major' an account of my time in the Gulf War. The earliest rejection letters are dated 1995. Back then a writer could submit their books directly to a publisher and the publisher would respond in person and possibly with a bit of useful feedback.
This was my first book and I knew it was a sure fire hit... just as the publishing industry knew it wasn't.
That particular book re-surfaced over the years as, 'The Tideless Beach', 'Oil Wells That End Well' and 'Gas, Gas, Gas!' Eventually a small section of it was published in a book called 'The Groundcrew Boys', published by Grub Street, one of many publishers who had rejected the original manuscript. In that respect it was not a total waste of time.
The same cannot be said for my next three books, all of which were garbage. 'On The Side Of The Enemy', 'The Innocent Accomplice' and 'Neil Barrie Still Eats Pies', will never see the light of day.
As time moved on and the widespread use of the PC encouraged more and more people to write, so things changed in publishing to the extent that only a manuscript presented by and agent would be considered. This reflected in a huge swathe of fresh rejection letters from literary agents. I was still being rejected and was even further removed from the actual publishers than I had ever been.
I kept writing.
I kept being rejected.
The next change, which happened more slowly than you might imagine, was that submissions were made via the internet rather than by post. This meant that my rejection letters gradually stopped coming and a new era of disappointment was ushered in via my email.
It was a massive change and no change at all. Rejection is rejection, regardless of the means of delivery.
It's been years since I received any form of rejection simply because, with the advent of Kindle, I stopped bothering with publishers. It's all academic now anyway. Hobart Books is my publisher - literally - if you'll forgive the pun.
No comments have been added yet.
