
Querying is a humbling process. Understandably, querying writers look for ways to process rejection, which exacts a psychological and emotional toll, but some writers don’t just cope, they rationalize. These writers need to face the possibility their writing just isn’t good enough.
perfect the way they are
There is a sizeable segment of querying writers whose coping revolves around the assumption that their writing is perfect the way it is. They’re unique, their writing is unique, and they shouldn’t have to compromise. The right agent will “get” them.
“I got my 50th rejection today. That just means I’m one rejection closer to a yes!”
No, what that actually means is that you’re ignoring the ineffectiveness of your query letter. If you don’t troubleshoot, there’s a good chance you’ll be looking at another 50 rejections.
“I’m obsessed with my WIP! I can’t wait to find the agent who sees how special it really is.”
Being all in on your manuscript is natural. Wanting to find an agent who appreciates your manuscript is natural. But coming to the premature conclusion that your work in progress is fantastic is a recipe for failure.
affirmation enablers
“Don’t worry, this agent just doesn’t get how wonderful you are. Your book is amazing and will find the right home.”
Writers who default to positive affirmations to cope with rejection often attract other writers who use the same coping mechanism. The result is an affirmation loop that shunts accountability onto agents and publishers.
I’m sure these sentiments are well-intentioned, but they’re hollow and counterproductive. It teaches writers to start with the assumption that they’re right and agents are wrong. Staying true to who you are as a writer is important, but a resolute unwillingness to learn from the querying process isn’t admirable. It’s childish.
the fallacy: writing is subjective
At this point, you might point out that writing is subjective, that not everything is for everyone, and as such, it behooves writers to stay true to themselves. There’s some truth to that, but if you’re looking to publish traditionally, writing is not all that subjective.
More often than not, agents have a good idea of what they’re looking for. And even if they don’t, the marketplace is teeming with examples with which you can compare your manuscript. Agents are also particular about how they would like to be queried. Adhering to these standards and guidelines doesn’t guarantee success but ignoring them guarantees failure.
learning from the querying process
If 50 queries have netted you no partial requests, something about your query is off target. If 25 partials have resulted in zero full manuscript requests, there is an issue with act one. If you plow ahead, refusing to heed these outcomes, your actions imply that you know more about traditional publishing than scores of agents. You don’t.
That’s not to say agents are infallible. Of course, they’re not. They make mistakes. They misunderstand queries. They might be in a bad mood or tired when reviewing a manuscript. Or maybe they truly don’t “get” your manuscript. You shouldn’t accept the feedback of one agent as law, but if enough of them react to your submissions in the same way, listen to them. They’re telling you something. You can (and should) learn from them.
Even if you’re looking to self-publish, you have to appeal to an audience, unless you don’t care about readers. But why even bother with self-publishing if you don’t care about an audience? Send it to a printer, put it on your shelf, and call it a day.
positive reframing vs. delusional affirmation
There’s a difference between positive reframing and delusional affirmation.
Scenario: 50 queries. 15 partial requests. 0 full MS requests. 6 agents provided similar feedback about inciting incident not being compelling enough.
Delusional affirmation: “My query success rate is high. I’m on the right track. It’s only a matter of time before my story lands with the right agent.”
Positive reframing: “My query is effective, and thanks to an insight gained from overlapping agent feedback, I may be able to find greater success moving forward by improving my inciting incident.”
inadvertent self-sabotage
Rejection is hard, especially for writers. You lay it all on the table, pouring your everything into a book, spending months, maybe years, on your work in progress, only to be met with canned replies or worse, an expansive silence. That’s tough to deal with. I know.
We all look for ways to manage the disappointment of agent rejections that can feel like a referendum on the very essence of who we are. We commiserate with other writers. We try to focus on the positive. But ignoring hard truths that can be gleaned from the querying process in favor of a rosy-colored self-assessment serves only to undermine our submission efforts.
My sister once told me, quoting someone else whose name now escapes me:
“Life will keep giving you the same test until you learn the lesson.”
You can’t cheat learning. You either do, or you don’t. If something isn’t adding up, it might be you. That’s OK, as long as you get around to acknowledging it.
“I got my 50th rejection today. That just means I’m one rejection closer to a yes!” --> agreed, it makes no sense when people say this.