The Language of Rejection: Not Always Meant for Translation.

As a long time children's book illustrator and now aspiring writer, I have approached a few literary agents that I feel would be a good match for my work. I recently got a very nice rejection letter from a new agent that said my PB manuscript had a "clever sensibility" to it, but that she did not "connect" with my illustration style, therefore it was a "no". I've been scratching my head trying to figure out what "clever sensibility" means...a polite way of saying your story is just okay but not great?

Maybe this would make more sense to me if I'd seen the manuscript, but I think chances are strong that this is just gibberish.

Could you please interpret this rejection letter to me... Sometimes I don't know what this kind of letters really tell... They like your work and in the future want to know what you are doing, or simply is a nice form of rejection, like when a girl friend says its me not you? This is the rejection letter: Dear X, Thank you for your enormous patience with me while I've reviewed your various projects and discussed them with a colleague here. Your writing style is intriguing and lyrical, intense and evocative, but in the end, I'm afraid we found these stories too ephemeral or elliptical thematically--or at least, we found that we lack a vision for publishing and promoting them--so I must say no with regrets.

Translation: "Your writing is good; what it's not is marketable. But maybe I'm wrong? Who knows."

Once More With Feeling

What exactly does "not immediate" mean?

I'm guessing you got that in a rejection letter. I would take it as meaning the editor wasn't feeling your manuscript in some important way-- whether it was not feeling the tension or not feeling a connection to the main character (or maybe something else). One way or another, you weren't convincing this particular reader that there was something meaningful at stake in your story.

Always bearing in mind that this editor may not be representative of your true readership, I would take this as a chance to ask yourself if in fact you are feeling the high stakes of the story you've written, or if you've only put the stakes into the plot without putting them into the telling.

Regretfully, This Means Nothing

Dear Editorial Anonymous,
Can you translate this from editor-speak to writer-speak? What does it mean when an editor tells you they're turning down your manuscript "with regret"?

Nothing.

Listen, I understand the impulse to parse rejection letters, as pointless as it is. Look, they aren't a pan of gravel in which you might find a flake of gold if you examine every piece of grit. They're hastily-written letters, so what's there is there.

Think of it this way:
option 1: The editor really wants to get something across to you.
Editors are verbal people. If they want to communicate something, they will.

option 2: The editor is not trying the get something across to you. This could be because she just doesn't want to go into why she's rejecting the manuscript, or because she's actively avoiding being blunt enough to tell you why. Either way, editors are verbal people. If they want not to communicate something, they won't.

Q&A Grab Bag

A couple of editors have commented that some secondary characters in my YA ms aren't "developed enough." I'm guessing they meant the characters were cardboard cutouts. I tried to address this problem by showing more of these characters' motivations, gave them more to do than just be a sounding board or antagonist for the heroine, etc, but I'm not sure I've gone far enough. At the same time, I don't want the secondaries to take over the whole show. Could you please talk about character development, what works for you and what doesn't?

The trick seems to lie in giving your secondary characters personalities, histories, and priorities of their own, without regard to your main characters. Then picture the characters interacting. (Not everything will go as planned, and that's what makes writing life-like.) Give your secondary characters a small chance somewhere to show us their point of view—even if it isn't one anyone else in the book agrees with. Give each character a chance to petition for the readers' sympathy—even if they don't get it. Give each of your characters a sense of self, and they'll become the currents your main character swims in and against, rather than simple scenery.

What is your opinion of writers submitting to agents and editors at the same time, especially for picture books? Say a ms was well received during a First Pages session and the editors said they would like to see the rest of the book, would the writer be better off securing an agent before submitting or should he go ahead and submit on his own?

The decision to find an agent or not is a personal one. There's nothing wrong with submitting to editors and agents at the same time; go about this however suits you best.

EA, you may have answered this, but I was wondering about the rejections you give to agents, are they more honest than the ones to authors? Before an editor said yes to my manuscript, several said a variety of things like what you've described here, "strong writing, character, plot, but not right for me." There was also at least one, the writing isn't strong enough. I'm curious if you work harder to be clear about your rejection with an agent, because you are trying to educate the agent as to what you are looking for, and developing a relationship, or if the bottom line is you don't have much time to spend on manuscripts you don't want because you've got to find and work on the ones you do?

As with authors, I'm more likely to be specific if I think there may be some eventual reward for me. Very promising authors and agents who I know have great taste get more feedback for the reasons you mention, as well as to encourage them to keep trying me with manuscripts.

Non-specific responses are not necessarily a sign of no respect, however; it's usually just a sign of no time. Most authors and agents don't really need encouragement to keep submitting, after all.

The (Possibly Explosive) Dangers of Feedback

Not as many questions for the magic eight ball of editor speak as I expected, which perhaps means that my colleagues have not been making as much of a nuisance of themselves. Or maybe you guys are taking the 8 Rules of Rejections to heart and not thinking much about the rejection letters you get. (If so, good for you!)

I've had an ed say she loved the voice, the plot, and the premise but not the dialogue. There were literally all of three lines of dialogue in that ms.

Yes, here's an example of wanting to give feedback and avoid the problem at the same time, which editors ought to know are mutually exclusive goals. Sure, editors are sometimes skittish about approaching the problem, since some of the things you definitely can do while giving feedback are confuse, anger, frustrate, and offend people. Still, if you're going to skip the problem, skip the "feedback". This sort of letter just makes people wonder what you're using for brains.

"the writing is thin"

This most often means the writing didn't have enough color or personality of its own. This doesn't necessarily mean you need more description, though writers are frequently in danger of taking it that way. Good, muscular writing knows what its goal is in the manuscript, and gets it done with few words. If you choose the right few words, the right few telling details, you only need a few.

"it's too quiet"

This is a topic problem; the editor is saying there isn't enough of a hook. There are now so many books on the market with lovely writing and illustration that those facts alone will not sell a book. If the writing or art is breathtaking, then that can be a hook of its own. Otherwise, the book also needs to be about something people know they want.

"not substantial enough"

This could mean "too thin" or "too quiet" (see above). Hard to say which.

I have a friend who just got a rejection from an ed who said she loved the concept, loved the genuine voice, loved the really great writing, but rejected the ms b/c she wanted to see more b/w 2 characters. As writers we hear over and over that plot can be fixed. But believable voice, solid writing, original concept, etc...have to be there first. So what was the deal-e-oh here? Not even a revision request. Although she did ask to see anything else of the writer's. Is there a subliminal message, like, "I adore this, but my publisher will never green-light this project," huh?For writers, these kinds of rejections are both exhilarating and excruciating.

Sounds like a letter I would have ended with a revision request. It's sometimes hard, though, to be sure a writer's able to change a manuscript the way you think it needs to be changed. And while we'd love to give people the benefit of the doubt, we see a few hundred manuscripts every year that have distinct strengths and that are simply not ready to be published. If we gave all of them an open door for resubmission, we'd regret it almost instantly. My advice: think hard about this feedback, and if you like it enough to make some real changes to the manuscript, do resubmit it. And submit it elsewhere. And keep submitting.

My husband has noticed that I get more vague yet personal rejections of the "I loved this, really enjoyed it, want a copy for myself but...no." variety between May and September... Even worse are the friendly, unsigned replies from publishers who told me not to include a SASE b/c they only respond if interested... so someone actually SPENT MONEY to send me a vaguely polite rejection..His diagnosis? Summer Interns.(Though I half-wonder if the polite rejection from the "only respond if interested" publisher was, in fact, a veiled attempt to say "please don't EVER submit to us again." Then I stop being paranoid and make another pot of coffee to make me feel better...)

I would attribute any rejection in the vein of "This was so great! I can't think of a single thing to criticize! Not on your life!" to interns.
The friendly, unsigned replies from houses who don't promise a response, however, I would take as actually friendly (while obviously not real personal or helpful).

Now, I do know what you mean about a polite letter that was sent in the hope that the author would never submit again, but you can be absolutely sure you've never received one. You seem perfectly sane. We don't send those letters to the clueless or the people who need to work on their manuscript some more. We don't even send them to the people who we feel could really work on their writing some more. They are solely for the very occasional certifiably insane person whose manuscript and/or cover letter actually scares us. They are "Oh my god, send this person a very nice but vague letter and let's hope the next thing we get from him isn't a bomb" letters.

So far we have not gotten any bombs, but trust me, some of the slush is just that terrifying.

Editor Speak Strikes Again!

If this is not a repetitive question could you please define what "slightly more commercial then we would pursue" means. That word commercial, has me a bit befuddled!

I was just thinking it's about time we had another round of What's -This-Editor-Thinking, otherwise known as the Magic Decoder Ring of Editor Speak. Come one, come all, and email me with your favorite unintelligible editorial comments; I'll try to translate (but no promises). Offer ends on Friday; not applicable where prohibited by law; etc, etc.

Commercial is one of those terms that you know for sure you understand until someone asks you to define it for them.
I not infrequently run into manuscripts that could stand to be a bit more commercial, in that they could stand to appeal to a wider audience.
Saying something is too commercial, though, could be taken a couple ways. Maybe this editor feels it's too mass-market, as in, would be most at home at Kmart and Target rather than at trade bookstores.
Or maybe she means it's trying to appeal to so wide an audience that it's lost it's own uniqueness, and thus has no particular audience.
Or... it's possible there's an interpretation I'm not thinking of right now.

If you cannot make head nor tail of an editorial comment, chances are you should just ignore it. (Remember The 8 Rules of Rejections?) But if you just want to have some fun with them, go ahead an email 'em to me.

Proof That It's Still Happening

Attending a SCBWI conference last spring, I had an extremely positive paid critique and response from an editor from a top publishing company. She made some excellent suggestions and invited me to resend the picture book after I made the changes, which I did. Now...tick, tock....much time has passed—and like any hopeful writer, I’m still hoping. This is a closed house. Do I assume I’ve been rejected? Or do I send a friendly reminder nudge?

It's about time for some more of this topic, isn't it?
Without knowing how much time we're talking about—as I keep reminding my readers, time passes much more quickly for editors than it does for authors—I would say, yes, nudge her. And keep nudging her, politely, pleasantly, every three months or so from now until whenever she finally gets back to you. But while you're doing that, keep submitting! Sometimes manuscripts fall into a black hole, and trying to figure out why or what you can do about it is just going to make you nuts.

More Editor Speak

I have received several personal letters from editors rejecting (in a very nice way) my submission. In one case, the editor wrote me a personal rejection letter twice though I told him not to feel the need to respond to the revision if he wasn't interested. His last letter read in part as follows:
“Thank you for sending me the revised manuscript…. I do think the manuscript is much stronger. The central storyline is clearer and the characters are more defined. But I’m sorry to say that I still don’t feel that the story is distinct enough for the marketplace. It may be that another editor will respond more positively, and I would be happy if that were so.”
Do you think this editor thinks my manuscript has potential or is he just a nice guy? I've read several things that would suggest this type of rejection indicates he has an interest in my work, but I’m not convinced. I don’t mind revision or re-submissions, I just don’t want to be a pest to this guy when he’s been nice enough to personally respond. What insights can you provide?

This editor thinks you have potential, but he's done with this manuscript. And he's a nice guy. If, after I reject something, I don't specifically invite a resubmission, I'm letting the thing go. And suggesting that other editors/publishers may respond more positively is always code for "I'm washing my hands of this".

But sending you a letter with specific, constructive criticism (in this case, "your hook isn't sharp enough")—is a real sign that he thinks you've got something. Send him whatever you next write.

An Editor, an Intern, and an Author Walk Into a Bar

So, wondering if you can help me decipher this rejection...? I sent four separate pic book manuscripts (in four separate envelopes) around the same time to a single publisher and received the following: an envelope that wasn't my SASE, with all four SASEs returned inside, addressed to me, naming (correctly) all four books, and reading:

"...several editors have considered the projects and we regret to report that we cannot see a place for them in our current publishing program. Our very best wishes to you for placing the work elsewhere. Thank you etc."

This was signed by the Vice President/Publisher (and it’s one of the big houses), although looks like it may be a computer generated sig, it's hard to tell.

Does this mean:

A. "All the editors that looked at this stuff agreed this was crap. Hang up the keyboard, sweetie."

or

B. "One or more of us actually considered them for a minute, we brought them all together and chatted about them over lattes, but we couldn't reach a consensus, dammit."

C. Neither of the above. (One of these manuscripts had been accepted by Penguin Australia (where I'm from) a few years ago but put on indefinite hold due to blah, blah, blah, so I know that one at least wasn't complete crap. Unusual perhaps, but not crap.)

I was interested that they were on the ball enough to put them together in a single package, and that they were thoughtful enough to return my unused SASEs to me (which I thought was kind). Why would they take the time, when they could have just sent me four form rejections at my expense?

There are really two possibilities. Take your pick:

a. The intern opening the mail noticed that four identical envelopes had identical return addresses/handwriting and clipped the four submissions together. Somebody looked briefly at the top one and passed all of them back to the intern to reject. None of your individual envelopes was big enough to send all of the manuscripts back together, so rather than personalizing four form rejections, she personalized one and stuffed them in a new envelope.

b. What you've quoted sounds very much like a form rejection, but the mention of "several editors" makes me pause. I wouldn't put that in a rejection if it weren't true... but I can't speak for other editors (and there's just no speaking for interns, ever). So it's possible that after the intern opening the mail noticed that four identical envelopes had identical return addresses/handwriting and clipped the four submissions together, your manuscripts were passed among editors. That would indicate that there was some real promise there, but that none of the manuscripts grabbed anyone enough to prompt a more personal rejection.

Maybe there's another possibility, though—you didn't say how long it took them to respond to these manuscripts. If it was a long time, then:

c. The intern opening the mail noticed that four identical envelopes had identical return addresses/handwriting and clipped the four submissions together, read them, and recommended them to the editor she was assisting. The editor put them into a pile that she thought she was going to read (in a moment of absurd optimism), and forgot about them (and the pile). Several months later the pile that had once been on her desk had moved to the floor and was gradually getting taller, dustier, and more mysterious ("What is that pile? Did someone leave it here?"). Finally she tripped on it and realized that it was made of manuscripts. In order to make some excuse for the ridiculous amount of time that had passed, she sent a form rejection referencing "several editors." Does this qualify as "evil"?


An editor, an intern, and an author walk into a bar. The editor sees several things wrong with the bar, but doesn't mention any of them. "I'm... late for an appointment," she says, and leaves. The intern doesn't see anything wrong with the bar, but has to follow where the editor leads. "Uh, me too," she says, "But great bar!" The author thinks the bar is charming and sits down and orders a drink. "This is the best drink I've ever had!" she says.
Which is the worst customer?

Answer: the author. She has no money, and is going to stiff you for the tab.

Learn to Speak Editor (part 4—the hard news)

"... the story just didn't come together in a way I had hoped it would.”

This could sure be more specific. It could mean that your resolution didn't resolve what the editor felt was the real conflict; it could mean that the strong elements of your writing weren't applied evenly in the manuscript. It could mean almost anything.

"Unfortunately, although I enjoyed this I’m afraid it feels a little too familiar. We are publishing a book that is similar called [title] this summer and I’m afraid this isn't quite unique enough for us to publish as aggressively as we’d like.”

This probably means just what it sounds like. Publishers have to try hard to keep their books different enough from each other so that bookbuyers can't say, 'oh, I don't need that book, I have your other book about that.'

"It's a fun idea and I especially enjoyed some of the moments between mc and mc, but I’m afraid it’s not right for our list right now.”

Praising the idea rather than the writing is usually a sign that the writing wasn't something the editor wanted to praise.

"You have sweet faces and a good family unit and theme at the core but at least for me the text still needs to be refined. I like the style and the feeling but not the story at hand."

This is a nice way of saying, "start over."

"Very clever, but not right for us. Good luck!"

This means nothing.

Here's one that puzzles me ... In a couple of cases, I've received several encouraging, complimentary rejections on my picture book manuscripts from one
editor. By the third or so letter, the editor will say sorry we can't publish this and ask if I have "anything longer." I don't.
I do, however, have other picture book manuscripts. Judging from their catalogs, these editors are publishing their share of picture books (and often from new authors). Should I move on to another editor at the same house? Or is that rude when someone has put the time into sending personal rejections? Clearly, these editors are sending me a hint but I'm not sure what to do with it.

There are pros and cons to having a semi-personal relationship with editors. It may get you a pass to send email submissions; it may get you personal rejections. But after a certain number of trys and misses, it's going to mean your submissions are met with rolled eyes and sighing. It's probably time to try another editor.

Learn to Speak Editor (part 3)

further twists on the magic decoder ring:

"Thank you for sending, not quite right for us." But a hand written note that said, "The energy in your writing is fantastic, please do send other manuscripts our way!"

Was somebody's name on that letter? If not, I'd worry that this is the work of an intern. I personalize my rejections in the actual typewritten part of letters.

The nonfiction manuscript referenced below provides an explanation and discussion of the (very well-known and well-supported) scientific conclusion that the elements in our body, carbon, iron, etc. originated in supernovae. (I've written several books about supernovae.)
Tell me the manuscript is too dry (it isn't). Tell me it might be difficult to illustrate (it might be). Tell me it's not a subject that interests you (that's fair). But don't
tell me it's "too controversial." Trust me. There's no controversy except among the scientific illiterate. Sheesh!

Oh, what bullshit. Shame on that editor.
It's true that certain states have enough hopelessly backwards people that the school bookclubs cannot offer books that talk about evolution, witchcraft, and other things that are no threat to thinking people. And if this editor has that in mind, and worries that your book will have very little audience outside of said bookclubs, that's reasonable. But saying the topic is too controversial implies that there's some legitimacy to the "controversy." Moreover, hasn't she seen Stars Beneath Your Bed: The Surprising Story of Dust?

"As you know, we have a small nonfiction program and our nonfiction tends to be more straightforward than this disguised-as-a-picture-book
style."

I like nonfiction picture books. But if she doesn't, well, ok.

"I was interested to see this.."

This means nothing. Nothing at all.

"Thank you for your query letter. Unfortunately, from your description, we do not think that your book would be a likely prospect for our list." But I didn't send a query letter. I sent a manuscript.

Ah, whoops. Shrug this off; it's the sort of mistake that does happen sometimes in the course of trying to get through as many manuscripts as we have to. I would assume that your manuscript was read, though--you just got the wrong rejection letter.

"I...was impressed with the creativity of your subject, as well as the caliber of your rhymes. The world's seas are fascinating and the lyrical flow of your poetry really helped them come to life." Well, that's nice. But this manuscript had nothing to do with the "world's seas" and "bringing them to life." You'll just have to trust me on that!

Oh dear. That's just mismanagement. Try submitting to other publishers for a couple months, and give this one a chance to "experience a change of staff."

"I don't think there is enough retail potential..."

You've narrowed your audience down to you and your friends.

"This would not translate well into other languages, which limits the markets to which we can sell a book. "

You're doing something too oblique for most of America. But the French aren't going to go for this.

"While I found some humorous moments, I don't feel this manuscript could compete in a crowded market."

Funny only works as a sole hook if it's really funny, and all the way through.

"This manuscript raises ethical issues."
(Said about a humorous manuscript about hybrid animals.)

Aside from the ligers and mules, people are going to look at this book and think "ick!". Others will picket the bookstores that carry it.

"Could you rewrite and get rid of the metaphors?"
I went through the manuscript several times, but couldn't find any metaphors.

Hmm. This is an interesting one. It might be another screw-up, but in my experience there's another possibility: You don't realize that you've put metaphors in your manuscript. I remember talking to a woman at a conference who had a manuscript about a stray dog (which I read in its entirety). I mentioned that books about homelessness were challenging to sell. She was honestly surprised. She'd never considered that her manuscript was about homelessness.

Sometimes authors get so focused on telling their story that they don't realize that the story is developing subtexts--and sometimes those subtexts are ones the author never realized they had in them. When people talk about stories having a life of their own, they're not kidding.

Learn to Speak Editor (part 2)

"slight"

This is code for "where's the hook?"

On a young PB: "I worry that literal-minded kids will find the dancing somewhat irresponsible."

This is code for "parents don't want to spend money on books they think will directly lead to misbehavior."

"Thank you for sending us your picture book manuscript, which I am returning to you now. I like the story, especially the linking between each response to a gift and the next gift. I can imagine it as a picture book for young children. However [name of company] is not the right publisher for this story. Our picture books tend to be much more substantial and aimed at slightly older children. I wish you success in finding the right publisher for this story and hope that you will keep us on your list of potential publishers for future work.
Here's the deal: I had previously sent her a longer picture book manuscript and received the comment, "this is more what we are looking for, however we need some shorter books for our list, ones which parents and teachers can quickly read to the picture book set." ...And that is why I had a bald spot on the side of my head.

Both of these are code for "This isn't close enough to pare down or beef up into what I want. Maybe if I give you just enough information to confuse you, you'll have a psychotic break."

"As you may have noticed, this is a form rejection. While we would like to give personal responses to each submissions, it is not practical for us to do so at this time. Please keep in mind this is not a statement about the quality of your submission. All this says (and we apologize for not being able to offer more) is this: your particular story is not for our particular publication, at this particular time. Good luck placing your work elsewhere! Being an author is more a journey than a destination, and it's important to keep moving forward."

This is code for "I want to be supportive, but my head is too far up my ass to tell which way is up."

Learn to Speak Editor (part 1)

The magic decoder ring of editor speak begins!

I used to write: 'I'm afraid it's not quite right for our current list.' What I meant was: 'It's not good enough for our list. And it never will be.

It's strange and wonderful to think of other editors reading this blog. I've written "it's not right for our list," and yes, most of the time I meant "it's not good enough." But some of the time I really meant "not right for us"--a topic that we didn't publish, or a theme we already had something similar to (but that was in early enough stages that I didn't want to tell the world about it).

Has pacing problems (boring)
Exhaustive (academic/boring)
Somewhat heavy handed (preachy)
Not without charm (too precious)
Nicely written but ultimately unsatisfying (plotless)
Underdeveloped characters (totally stock)
Nice sense of place (is this about anything?)
Not enough tension (mind-numbingly slow)
Feels familiar (not another)
Entertaining (overwritten)
Too special (it won't sell)

Has pacing problems (where did you leave your story arc?)
Exhaustive (not one but multiple kitchen sinks)
Somewhat heavy handed (the obedience school method of storytelling)
Not without charm (this means nothing from an editor's mouth. Seriously.)
Nicely written but ultimately unsatisfying (too much focus on setting/character, not enough on story)
Underdeveloped characters (what characters?)
Nice sense of place (it's nice you're living in the moment. Some of us want a sense of time passage, though)
Not enough tension (the problem is that there's no problem)
Feels familiar (the feeding-of-baby-birds method of storytelling)
Entertaining (you're funny. But when was the last time you heard a standup comic tell a joke that lasted for 32 pages?)
Too special (I haven't a clue what this means. Who would write this? Crazy editors.)

Learn to Speak Editor in Just One Week!

I got a rejection letter that said something like, "I like your manuscript, but you deserve someone who's more enthusiastic about it. Best wishes placing it at another publisher."

At this point, I don't care how enthusiastic the editor is! I just want the damn thing published. I kind of want to write back telling this person that if she likes it at all, that's good enough for me!

Do you guys want to take this, or shall I?
This is yet another reason to totally ignore rejection letters. You don't have to worry about getting slapped with the clue stick.



Editors are caught between people with delicate feelings who will be irate if we don't say things in the nicest, most circuitous way possible, and people who can't read between the lines when things are phrased that way. (Not to mention the people who have delicate feelings and can't read between the lines.) We try to take a middle road that is polite but clear, but no matter what we write, someone is going to be pissing cactus.



The sentiment expressed above is code for "I liked your manuscript, but not enough to spend hours upon hours of my time on it over the next year and a half."



Perhaps the readers of this blog could help me put together a little glossary of phrases editors use and what they really mean. Oh, this'll be fun. I know a bunch of you save your rejection letters, if only to scrape your boots on when you come into the house. Want to send me your favorite excerpts? I'll take submissions until the end of the day Friday. And it'll be so interesting to see what my counterparts are writing!