When rejection feels good

Six queries, five rejections and I couldn’t be happier. Well, that’s a lie I certainly could be more mirth-filled if I took off another ten pounds and got asked to the publishing-prom but this time around I think I’m on to something.

These have not been form rejections. Oh there’s the “we’re not the right agency” and “I’m not the right agent” BUT there’s feedback; encouraging and constructive feedback.

“You are a strong writer and very funny…,” said one.

“You are a good writer, much better than what crosses my desk these days.”

“Laugh out loud funny,” another said.

Each compliment bolstered my very damaged writer’s ego after over one-hundred form rejections related to my two novels. That’s per book and that doesn’t count the no response means no.

 

This book is a memoir. A different kind of memoir which bubbles up above the rest because of how it is organized. The title has been in the header of this blog forever.

HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS, one woman’s WTF, oops and ah ha moments of life. (Gee, I love my title.)

The agent comments, unexpected and wonderful, keep me in the game. The constructive comments are getting my attention.

“Engaging, strong and funny but it didn’t draw me in.”

“I liked the sample, a lot, but I didn’t fall in love with it.”

These got me to sit up and aim at something which has bothered me since I started querying. In the first thirty, too much history, too much background, too much writer’s bullshit until I get to the meat. So last night I printed the first thirty pages to figure out what’s missing. (Egads, found a few damned typos.) And, what does the sample lack? Or what do I have to take away?

That’s why I am posting today. Had to get my head out of the thirty pages in order to come up with, just one more article to cut and paste into the sample in order to show (not tell) just how this thing works. So it’s contemplation, elimination and addition time. I’m pumped.

And, I’m working on a (three agents recommended) proposal. An, It can Happen To You / Erin Brockovich kind of memoir.

 
My keys are a-flamin’ and my mind is a-racin’. I love this shit.