The Publishing Biz - Episode 4

The irony is thick these days. I was in the New York/New Jersey area on business this week so I attempted to arrange meetings with two editors in NYC. One was a guy I had previously spoken with on the phone who had asked me to send him a proposal. The other was a girl I met over Memorial Day weekend. She's actually a children's editor for a major publishing house. After a lengthy discussion about the book, she asked to read it. She did and liked it so much that she forwarded it to two other editors, ones who would be in a position to give the book a green light. So, as you can imagine, I was very keen to talk to her again. I wanted to thank her for her help to and find out if she's gotten any feedback from her colleagues. But it was not to be.

I called her and emailed her the day before to see if she was available. As I was arriving in the city, she had still not gotten back to me. So, I called the other editor. He answered and told me that he was busy and would call me back. Skeptical that I would hear from him, I went out. It was my birthday, so there was fun to be had.

After countless drinks at a dozen bars in Greenwich Village, I returned to my hotel to find an email from the guy. He passed. Surprise, surprise. He said that he must've written my number down wrong because he tried to call and couldn't get through. Hmm. My phone number was on both my proposal and the email that delivered it. Anyhow, while he acknowledged that my proposal was good, he said that he couldn't get passionate about the intersection of evolution and self-help. That was a new one. He was the first to reject me on the grounds that he didn't find my concept compelling. Oh well. At least I knew where he stood. Somewhat dejected but still sufficiently inebriated to shake it off quickly, I crashed.

I arrived home today, two days later. My female fan has still not returned my call, but I think I know why. On the table, I found a package with my manuscript and a rejection letter from the editors at her company. This one was classic. The writer explained how he found my concept very interesting, but that the self-help books his company publishes tend to be very practical, how-to guides with prescriptive steps rather than more conceptual, scholarly books such as mine. Now that's rich. Starting with the fourth chapter, every chapter in my book finishes with set of actions that must be taken to put the concepts into practice. One thing is certain, these folks did not read my book. But this is not a bad news story...yet.

Apparently, my proposal did not adequately address the practical side of my book. Fortunately, I can always call this guy and clarify matters. If he is stating his true reason for passing on my book, I can overcome it. It may be true that my book needs to be more overt about its practicality from the start. The editor's first job, as I see it, is to find books that he or she can mould into best-sellers. Given the slump in the book industry right now, it seems a bit lazy to expect a submission to be perfect upon arrival. So, if this guy has some vision, I should be able to get him to reconsider. We'll see.

It's funny how you sort of get used to rejection. I can't say it isn't a let down every time one of my good prospects closes the door on me. However, I'm finding that the time it takes me to shake it off and recommit to my cause is decreasing steadily. When I feel upset, I try to look forward a day or two into the future. I wonder if I'll still feel down. I instantly know that I will not, so I conclude that some time between now and then, I'll get over the negative emotions associated with being disappointed again. I then simply decide that it is a waste of time to prolong that event, and presto, I start to feel better.

I'm beginning to think that this quest to get published is teaching me every bit as much as writing my book did. Who'd have guessed?