I received a completely unexpected rejection yesterday from an agent. Not that I had expected her to request my full manuscript, but I hadn’t expected to hear from her at all. She’s the one I wrote about many months ago who I’d met at the Pitch Slam in January and then queried, and then followed up with in March (after the requisite two month wait) and then never ever heard from. So I assumed I never would.
Suddenly yesterday an email from her appears in my inbox. I was so surprised I thought maybe I’d pushed some funny button on my phone and pulled up old email files form the dark recesses of digital storage. But no, it was dated August 24 and she began by saying what a pleasure it was to meet me at the conference (although I’m certain she has little recollection of me at all). She then apologized for how long it’s taken her to get to all these submissions and acknowledged that I’d probably written her off, but “for what it’s worth, I think you have a very interesting project and an important story to tell. I also found that your prose conveys true emotion and that you handle a difficult subject with a deft hand.”
Okay, okay, this sounds good. Tell me more. And then the word: “Unfortunately …” It’s like those moments on The Bachelor when they say to some puppy-eyed prospect, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner: funny and smart and good-looking. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that I might fall in love … BUT ….”
So, my “unfortunately” was that the narrative did not pick up quickly enough for her to have the necessary enthusiasm to represent my book.
Well, I have to say, this is a really good rejection for a few reasons: One, I didn’t expect to hear from her at all so it’s not like I was holding out some last great hope. And two, this is the very first time I’ve received any constructive criticism. I’ve had agents reject me in completely generic terms or I’ve had them praise me and my writing only to blame the market or their own inexperience for not being able to sell my work (a twist on the classic, “It’s not you, it’s me” line). But now, finally, I have an actual reason, something I can do to make it better.
And it’s the very reason I’ve been wondering about lately. In fact, just last week, I dragged my book out of those dark recesses of digital storage and added a brand new first page, something I’d been loathe to do before. I knew the beginning didn’t fully capture my best writing but I’d been so stuck on how to change it. I still don’t have the perfect answer for how to do it but at least I have an impetus to do so and a clear goal — move the narrative along faster.
Now I just have to hope the one other agent I’m still holding out hope for doesn’t think the same thing!