Closure! And that's the end of that.
Sep. 8th, 2006 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shalannaWell, despite everyone's advice, I decided that I couldn't just sit around for another few weeks thinking that I might hear back from this agent. Because I knew that we'd made a definite will-call appointment, I thought that it would be reasonable for me to find out what was going on. I know, I know--I could just have sent the book out to other people and forgotten about this one, but I like to know where I stand. I let others know where they stand (sometimes making them upset in the process, unfortunately.) I am not much of a gameplayer.
So after my excursion with Hubby at lunchtime (which turned out to be fun), I came home and sent an e-mail message. It simply said:
I don't think that was out of line at all. It's pretty much the same kind of communication that I've sent/received when doing business in other fields, such as software or telecom.
And in fact it was successful in taking us both off the hook, for about thirty minutes after I hit SEND, I got a phone call.
(To hell with the Zie and Zir. She's a she.)
Yes, she had read through the revised file. And ultimately, she didn't feel that the character of Lance had been changed into what she'd had as a vision for him. (I made the changes that she suggested, but I couldn't turn him into someone else completely, and I explained at the time I made the submission of the revision why I felt I had fixed what we discussed.) She felt that another go at it would be fruitless, as she had gone through that with other authors and never had found it worked. She had also read my other work, and though she liked it, she didn't love it. (Where have I heard THAT before?) She said she was sorry she didn't have better news.
I told her that I had simply wanted to know where I stood so that I could move forward to the next opportunity, and thanked her for getting back to me. I didn't take up a bunch of her time, but I don't feel guilty for asking for this closure.
If such closure is not the industry standard, it should be. I don't approve of just letting people hang for weeks and months after you've made your decision. I don't think it's good to just hope that someone will Get The Idea And Go Away if you don't call or contact him or her; that didn't work back when you were dating, and it doesn't work well in business. Now we've had a businesslike transaction, IMHO. I applaud her for having the guts (finally) to just call me and cut me loose, or whatever you want to call it.
While I was listening and going "uh huh," Mama was sitting at the table with her bowl of oatmeal and trying to shoot me the OK sign. I kept waving her off. She finally got the idea that this was a rejection, and as soon as I hung up, she started. "Well, I knew that was her the minute the phone rang. Now at last you can do something else with your life! And we need to make some money. There's nothing wrong with making money. Let's think of something useful you can do with your life that people will appreciate! Don't be sad!"
"I'm not upset," I told her. And I'm not. I had figured out that this was probably going to be the outcome, and I'm just glad that I didn't go through yet another weekend, another week, another however-long-a-time sitting and waiting. "But I'm not in this to make money. And I'm not going to stop sending stuff out right now; I said on my LiveJournal that I'd give this torture another year, and I will. Then I can quit, knowing in my heart that it is not and never will be the Universe's will that I get legitimately published. After twenty years, I'll admit that I'm licked. So be it, then. But I said I'd give it a year, and I'm going to."
"But why? Why do you want to set yourself up for more torture and rejection? You should've let Aunt and I see your revision and we would've told you what you did wrong."
"No," I said firmly. "You wouldn't have. I suspect that nothing I could have done would have made the magic happen. I honestly don't know how someone goes so quickly from 'I love this and am going to call you about representation' to 'I still love this, but I'd like to see some changes that are really very minor, and I'll call you in a week,' to 'It just isn't doing it for me, and I'm afraid I'll have to pass.' I didn't make changes that were that significant or extreme, frankly. Perhaps she got an idea in her mind about how she would have written the book, and was hoping to see THAT book instead. I can't read minds, and I couldn't write the book she would have written, anyway. This book is better now, I think, and this isn't a verdict on its quality. I believe this says a whole lot more about this *business* than it does about this *book*."
And I really mean that. If I were even more Phildickian than I already am (read: paranoid), I would say that somebody who didn't like me got to this agent. Or I would say that she ran across something I'd said on the 'net and decided that I should burn in Hell for holding that belief, and that she wouldn't want to work with me because of that. Or I might even say that she got a chance to speak to the editor(s) she thought might like this story and discovered that they no longer had any interest in such stories or were out of slots and weren't buying. There could be any number of reasons. But I don't really believe in those reasons. After all, people have better things to do with their time than go around badmouthing someone they've never met and who hasn't ever done anything to incite such action. And I simply can't become a politically correct mealymouth who just spouts whatever it seems as if people want to hear, just so that Everybody'll Like Me. Because they don't, not even then. Then you're out your integrity as well as left without the friends you thought that the facade would bring you. It's not worth it.
And if a book seems like something that you love and can sell one month, I doubt that a few revisions as minor as what I did could change that. It's just this business. It's like chasing a chameleon across a rainbow: even THEY don't know what color they're going to be tomorrow. It's a crapshoot.
I just crapped out, that's all.
I'll send that thank-you note. I think that's the classy way to handle it. I've always sent thank-you notes to people who gave me gifts, so it's not that much of a stretch.
You can be by God sure of one thing, though: if I ever DO get another phone call from anyone in publishing, I am going to try my very best to be that mealy-mouthed yes-man. I'm an actress, after all, and I can play roles; I'll re-watch _All About Eve_. I won't make the same mistakes again, if I'm ever lucky enough to get another call.
I think that SF/F is way too insular. Maybe working on selling a mystery would be the thing to try for the rest of the year. (I have already given up on the mainstream/chick lit/whatever-it-is _Little Rituals_, because what people say is that the question of whether the magic is real or it's just all in her mind MUST be answered, and the whole POINT is that it's ambiguous and unknowable, just like in real life. They say you can't have ambiguity in a book, but that's part of the point of the book. It would have sold in the 1970s, I'll bet.)
Now all I need to do is find a good mystery to plagiarize. . . .
So after my excursion with Hubby at lunchtime (which turned out to be fun), I came home and sent an e-mail message. It simply said:
I am wondering whether I misunderstood you the other day. We talked by phone on Friday, 8/25, and I thought I understood you to say that you'd call me the following Friday. Have you had a chance to look at the revised version of Camille? I sent that on Sunday night, 8/27, but if it didn't arrive, I can re-send. The Word document contains comment fields so that you can click to see every change that I made in response to your suggestions. I hope that is acceptable.
I just thought that I should check in to make sure nothing has gone wrong. Whether we end up working together or not, I feel that the changes strengthen the novel and make it more true to the story that I intended to tell, so I wanted to thank you again. It's not often that I get feedback from a pro!
I don't think that was out of line at all. It's pretty much the same kind of communication that I've sent/received when doing business in other fields, such as software or telecom.
And in fact it was successful in taking us both off the hook, for about thirty minutes after I hit SEND, I got a phone call.
(To hell with the Zie and Zir. She's a she.)
Yes, she had read through the revised file. And ultimately, she didn't feel that the character of Lance had been changed into what she'd had as a vision for him. (I made the changes that she suggested, but I couldn't turn him into someone else completely, and I explained at the time I made the submission of the revision why I felt I had fixed what we discussed.) She felt that another go at it would be fruitless, as she had gone through that with other authors and never had found it worked. She had also read my other work, and though she liked it, she didn't love it. (Where have I heard THAT before?) She said she was sorry she didn't have better news.
I told her that I had simply wanted to know where I stood so that I could move forward to the next opportunity, and thanked her for getting back to me. I didn't take up a bunch of her time, but I don't feel guilty for asking for this closure.
If such closure is not the industry standard, it should be. I don't approve of just letting people hang for weeks and months after you've made your decision. I don't think it's good to just hope that someone will Get The Idea And Go Away if you don't call or contact him or her; that didn't work back when you were dating, and it doesn't work well in business. Now we've had a businesslike transaction, IMHO. I applaud her for having the guts (finally) to just call me and cut me loose, or whatever you want to call it.
While I was listening and going "uh huh," Mama was sitting at the table with her bowl of oatmeal and trying to shoot me the OK sign. I kept waving her off. She finally got the idea that this was a rejection, and as soon as I hung up, she started. "Well, I knew that was her the minute the phone rang. Now at last you can do something else with your life! And we need to make some money. There's nothing wrong with making money. Let's think of something useful you can do with your life that people will appreciate! Don't be sad!"
"I'm not upset," I told her. And I'm not. I had figured out that this was probably going to be the outcome, and I'm just glad that I didn't go through yet another weekend, another week, another however-long-a-time sitting and waiting. "But I'm not in this to make money. And I'm not going to stop sending stuff out right now; I said on my LiveJournal that I'd give this torture another year, and I will. Then I can quit, knowing in my heart that it is not and never will be the Universe's will that I get legitimately published. After twenty years, I'll admit that I'm licked. So be it, then. But I said I'd give it a year, and I'm going to."
"But why? Why do you want to set yourself up for more torture and rejection? You should've let Aunt and I see your revision and we would've told you what you did wrong."
"No," I said firmly. "You wouldn't have. I suspect that nothing I could have done would have made the magic happen. I honestly don't know how someone goes so quickly from 'I love this and am going to call you about representation' to 'I still love this, but I'd like to see some changes that are really very minor, and I'll call you in a week,' to 'It just isn't doing it for me, and I'm afraid I'll have to pass.' I didn't make changes that were that significant or extreme, frankly. Perhaps she got an idea in her mind about how she would have written the book, and was hoping to see THAT book instead. I can't read minds, and I couldn't write the book she would have written, anyway. This book is better now, I think, and this isn't a verdict on its quality. I believe this says a whole lot more about this *business* than it does about this *book*."
And I really mean that. If I were even more Phildickian than I already am (read: paranoid), I would say that somebody who didn't like me got to this agent. Or I would say that she ran across something I'd said on the 'net and decided that I should burn in Hell for holding that belief, and that she wouldn't want to work with me because of that. Or I might even say that she got a chance to speak to the editor(s) she thought might like this story and discovered that they no longer had any interest in such stories or were out of slots and weren't buying. There could be any number of reasons. But I don't really believe in those reasons. After all, people have better things to do with their time than go around badmouthing someone they've never met and who hasn't ever done anything to incite such action. And I simply can't become a politically correct mealymouth who just spouts whatever it seems as if people want to hear, just so that Everybody'll Like Me. Because they don't, not even then. Then you're out your integrity as well as left without the friends you thought that the facade would bring you. It's not worth it.
And if a book seems like something that you love and can sell one month, I doubt that a few revisions as minor as what I did could change that. It's just this business. It's like chasing a chameleon across a rainbow: even THEY don't know what color they're going to be tomorrow. It's a crapshoot.
I just crapped out, that's all.
I'll send that thank-you note. I think that's the classy way to handle it. I've always sent thank-you notes to people who gave me gifts, so it's not that much of a stretch.
You can be by God sure of one thing, though: if I ever DO get another phone call from anyone in publishing, I am going to try my very best to be that mealy-mouthed yes-man. I'm an actress, after all, and I can play roles; I'll re-watch _All About Eve_. I won't make the same mistakes again, if I'm ever lucky enough to get another call.
I think that SF/F is way too insular. Maybe working on selling a mystery would be the thing to try for the rest of the year. (I have already given up on the mainstream/chick lit/whatever-it-is _Little Rituals_, because what people say is that the question of whether the magic is real or it's just all in her mind MUST be answered, and the whole POINT is that it's ambiguous and unknowable, just like in real life. They say you can't have ambiguity in a book, but that's part of the point of the book. It would have sold in the 1970s, I'll bet.)
Now all I need to do is find a good mystery to plagiarize. . . .
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no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 09:13 pm (UTC)Also, it may have been she was in the sort of "love" with it I was in with a pair of shoes I almost bought the other day--the longer I looked them over and tried them on, the more I thought "Nope, not for me" and the less I thought "SQUEEEEE! These are terribly cute and they are on supertotalextremeclearance yay!" I mean, they were really cute shoes, at an insanely good price--but not quite the right fit, and they went with nothing I own. NOTHING. However, shoes don't have feelings and you do, so she may have dawdled because she felt bad about falling out of love and wasn't looking forward to telling you. I mean, I didn't have to explain anything to the shoes, just stick them back in the box and go.
Shoes--they may have soles but they don't have feelings. I'll try not to pun here again this month.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 09:29 pm (UTC)Just don't you go second-guessing yourself six months from now and thinking that if you hadn't asked her what was going on, she might have come round. What you did was perfectly sensible. I'm just sorry things didn't work out.
P.
Agentitis
Date: 2006-09-08 09:49 pm (UTC)Re: Mysteries to plagiarize, I've always been passionately fond of Agatha Christie's THE MOVING FINGER. It came out, I believe, in 1950, so the elements contained in it could be carefully stirred, modernized, probably taken out of England, and you could have something fun to work with. Anyway, that's my tuppence worth.
A comforting virtual hug.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 09:56 pm (UTC)Does that help at all?
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 10:45 pm (UTC)Let me pass on some writing advice which might cheer you:
"Nothing odd will do for long. Tristam Shandy did not last." Dr. Samuel Johnson, author of the novel Rasselas.
Stephen King's first agent warned him that if he got stereotyped as a horror writer, he would starve to death the way Lovecraft did.
Now: If you've come this close with one agent, you're either good enough to get all the way with another agent, or close to that point.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-08 10:45 pm (UTC)I think the thank you note is still a lovely idea--bet she seldom gets appreciated for a serious consider, even if it was the wrong side of a close call--and here's wishing you better luck with the next.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-09 01:40 am (UTC)I'm sorry it didn't work out for you, but at least you're happy with your revisions.
Keep subbing, though, because the next one may "fall in love" and stay in love. :)
mb
no subject
Date: 2006-09-09 04:12 am (UTC)If someone says they will call by a certain date and then doesn't then THEY are the ones who are out of line.
You actually showed great restraint by emailing. A lot of people would have called and called and called.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-09 11:53 am (UTC)I think this kind of closure is called for and needed. And ultimately, she didn't feel that the character of Lance had been changed into what she'd had as a vision for him.
feels like a very strange way of working for me. I realise that many agents ask for revisions before signing simply to see whether the writers are open to editorial instructions, but I don't feel that the timescale was right for major revisions.
If you asked me to rip apart my book and put it back together over the weekend, I'd politely decline. A fortnight, maybe, but I'd have to think about it and try things and make sure they fit into the arc as a whole...
A strategic observation, though: Get representation for one book before you send the agent five more. You want to be judged on your best work, not something that's lagging behind on your learning curve. You should be able to improve on anything that is more than a year or two books in the past, so _don't_ treat your old works as finished and send them out without polishing.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-09 03:40 pm (UTC)With that said, I am sick about this. I'm so sorry things did not work out, and I agree that her expectations about Lance seem pretty elevated considering the time frame involved and your initial conversation. I'm just glad you didn't let this drag on as it might have, for your sake--although I admit it's got to be painful.