On Rejection

Can you really call something a rejection when it was exactly what you were expecting?

If that is a rejection, then I have received my first. I suppose I should be excited. It means I've actually created something worthy of rejection. That sounds odd, but bear with me.

I am nearing the end of my 5th round of revisions on First Act of War. After the 4th round of revisions, I sent the book to people who graciously agreed to cut  time out of their busy schedules to read my book and give me feedback. These are the wonderful and amazing people who should be winning the lottery. And they have genuinely loved my book. Loved it! I'm beaming.

During the incredibly tense few weeks as I waited for my wonderful and stupendous readers to finish my novel, the JABberwocky agency opened their doors to unsolicited query letters. Now, this agency doesn't always accept queries, and it is home to one Joshua Bilmes - a high lord of Epic Fantasy agents. Publishers have said to Mr. Bilmes, "We love your authors!" He has secured wonderful publishing deals for unknowns and well-knowns alike. He is exactly the sort of person I want representing me.

So I sent a query letter the moment the gates opened.

Now sending  a query letter is a little like buying a lottery ticket. You're pretty much just wasting the $1 on envelopes, paper and postage. But the excitment you have as you dump the fresh letter that contains all your hopes and dreams into the mail is such a rush that some people will literally do this several times a week for the rest of their lives! (I really, really don't want to be that person.) Your odds are a bit better than the lottery, but it also means you had to write a book, so you can see where lottery tickets are more popular.

Today I received Joshua Bilmes' kind response. It is on a cut piece of paper that slips easily into a #10 envelope. It contains a logo, address, and no personal salutation whatsover. It does say, however, that Joshua was delighted to receive my query, and that he had given my work his most careful consideration.

For those scoring at home, it's not looking good for the home team. It's kind of like when you went up to the prettiest girl in your English class and asked her to homecoming, and she says, "Oh. Wow. You know, I really like you, but..."

Oh, I hate the "but". Brief aside: if anyone ever says "but" after "I'm sorry" please realize they are not apologizing. They are justifying.

Mr. Bilmes did not use the word "but". He used the oh-so different "alas". Give the man points for originality.
So, Joshua Bilmes rejected my query letter. I'm not really that sad about it. Well, I am, but pretty much in the same way I am when I don't win the lottery. Now, ask me this same question a year from now, after 100 more rejections of similar ilk, and you might find me crying in my soup. I still want Mr. Bilmes as my agent. Actually, I just want an agent.

But, for now, it's cool.