Seven Reasons for Rejection
Hello, this is the earl. Not the earl as you know him, but a chastened, weary earl. Some malady or other has struck, rendering the REM phase disfunctional. Like many of you, I face obstacles on the path to publication, aside from encounters with gastropods, blown head gaskets, and the like. I came across a survey of some seventy odd literary agents collected by Dee Power. Dee published the results of the survey which focuses reasons agents offer for rejection. I’ve taken the liberty of sharing some of those reasons while adding a few of my own.
Bad queries. Very high on the list. This pitfall is easily avoided. For instance, my own bad query letters are routinely quarantined after being read aloud in malls. Mrs. Joan Darcy and her eight year old son, Ethan, were instrumental in intercepting this Query: Voltaire’s Miasma will appeal to readers who routinely fly long distances, feeling trapped, resentful, poorly served, put upon, indeed, people for whom travel has become a postmodernist farce. “Sounds dumb,” Ethan said.
Bombast and Hyperbole: no strangers to the earl, bombast and hyperbole are the Pillars of Hercules through which my prose must pass! Forgive my poor attempt at humour; if you stare at the ceiling long enough, patterns emerge, maps of Greenland, that sort of thing.
What’s the book about? This must be revealed. For example, on page fifteen of my Standard Agent Query the plot of Voltaire’s Miasma begins to emerge. Agents resent this: they feel their life force ebbing by page three.
Explain your platform: very important these days. Some tips in this regard: try to become an assistant at Vogue or a contestant on a reality television show. Failing this, you may have to learn to write, a tedious process that offers no guarantee of success. Those of you who choose this option will receive letters that contain baffling or contradictory passages that may be harmful to your state of mind.
Hone your skills: yes, I know, this honing advice is both hortatory and useless. I think Cicero stood on street corners and practiced oratory, something that could be misconstrued these days. On the other hand, sometimes people will throw money. Reciting the words to Mr. Tambourine Man in a veleveteen greatcoat can be a profitable way to refine your subliminally implanted elevator pitch. Details of these activites need not appear in your initial query: put this information in your Bio.