Here is an article that is from Robin Claireday or Justine
I can't figure out who wrote whhat on the site:)
***Writers must deal with both guidelines (before
submission) and rejections (after submission). By the way, take heed of
the word "submission." Writers should understand that they will be
literally submitting their egos, souls and hearts, along with their manuscripts.
It's a cruel, cruel world out there, and many publishers take the gloves
off right from the beginning. They send guidelines packed with ominous
warnings, subtle taunts and--sometimes--they'll go as far as to almost guarantee
a rejection before they even read your manuscript.
The least we writers can do is poke fun at them and mercilessly scrutinize
their every communication for the tiniest flaw. Right? We have to take
our pleasures where we can--at least, until we skyrocket to the top of the
bestseller's list.
The Bad, the Ugly and the Ironic Guidelines
"Use spell-checking and grammar-checking programs; mss which have obviously
not been proof-read will be rejected without comment."
This from a small press that offers royalties but no advance for your book--that's an entire book we're talking about, not a short story. A full-sized tome that took a writer
approximately two to three years to sweat out.
"Any submissions which are written on both sides of the paper will be promptly
shredded without reading them."
Shredded? Geez, are these guys working for the government or what?
"Editors value their eyesight (writers don't?). Do not submit a low resolution
dot matrix printout; they will not be read."
"Do not send your manuscript to more than one publisher at a time. If you believe that your book is good enough to sell, do not antagonize your potential publisher (remember, this is the guy who's using your manuscript as a coaster for his afternoon coffee) by trying to sell it to someone else at the same time."
These are the same people who will take at least six months to shoot you out a form letter, addressed "Dear Writer". In other words, we'll be happy to waste your time for months but don't you dare waste ours for a second.
"As a very small publisher, we find it necessary to ask for a donation to cover our
reader's time (What is this--a charity in disguise? And if so, will they be
asking for more money during their pledge drive?). "If you are totally unable due to poverty to make a donation, make your case (these guys are all heart) and we will read anyway."
"We are nonprofit and tax exempt", they go on to explain. Huh? They're not trying to make money--but wait a minute--you the writer are! And, anyway if they're not
trying to make a few bucks, why the request for the "donation"?
Some of the meanest come from children's publishers. Some
of their guidelines are so angry they practically give off sparks. Apparently,
they all hate talking animals and talking toasters, despite the plethora of popular books that feature such creatures. They also hate dragons and cheerful egg stories.
Considering the market they're in, they're one peeved bunch.
Rejections
First, the catch-all rejection that reeks of kindness. Some politician apologist no doubt wrote the prototype.
"The rejection of your work is in no way a criticism of its merit. We are small and our needs are specific, and at this point, we are unable to use the fine work that is submitted. We thank you for considering us and wish you the best of luck in
placing your work elsewhere."
Notice the generic stroking that goes on. Generic because your name isn't even
included in this letter, just "Dear Writer". Again, they are wishing you luck
in placing your story somewhere else. This is known as a pat on the head before
you get the kick in the pants. By the way, expect publishers who send this sort
of form letter to be out of business within months.
Larger presses will also use a version of this letter. The only difference
is that they may take twice as long to send it to you.
Rejections on scraps
These are the dregs. A pathetic kiss-off that doesn't even
require a fresh sheet of paper. They scrawl on your letter or on your envelope or
on a tiny strip of paper the size of a Band-Aid (appropriate, don't you think?). You
can't sink much lower when you get one of those nasty little buggers.
The rejections that never were
I take back what I just said. The worse rejections are the ones that aren't delivered--for they perpetuate a slimy sliver of hope deep in the heart of the waiting writer.
These people ignore all entreaties . "Do you want it?" you ask, or even more humble and sycophantic, "Can I ask you if you're going to give me a response
on my book?" Please, please. Please? Writers send SASEs, leave phone messages,
pleading emails, and certified letters with preprinted cards that say "Please mark the yes box or the no box." Is that pathetic or what? We have to pay them and write our own rejection letter?
One thing you will notice is that many rejection letters come accompanied by something extra, something just for you. The envelope's padded out a bit and while
your heart vaults into your throat as you dare to dream it's a contract, you will
find something entirely different.
The most common envelope stuffers: advertisements and pleas for subscriptions. Use our editing services, buy our magazine, subscribe to our ten magazines, enter
our contest with an entrance fee of at least fifty dollars or more. Yes, we blew you off, but that shouldn't stop you from sending us money that you don't have.
The sleaziest filler---a request to join their subsidy/vanity publishing program. In other words, while they don't want to give you any money, they'll be happy to take
yours.
Rejections that don't hurt
Sorry we're are going out of business.
I loved your story but couldn't use it now. Please try again.
Please make revisions and maybe I'll consider you.
The where do these people learn to write rejections:
"We acknowledge receipt of your inquiry concerning the publication of
your work." (Huh? Have they ever heard of clarity and active voice?) "This is to advise you that we would not be interested in considering it at this time. Please note that this is not a statement of the merit of your work..." Blah, blah, I can't go on. It's too pompous, too baroque, too nauseating.
Proper grammar
"It is not our policy to accept unfinished product. However, we do thank you for your interest." (Do these folks ever proofread??)
"We are very selictive about the manuscripts we publish; therefore, we must turn
down many proprosals."
It's nice to know we're not the only ones who make mistakes. It's also nice to know
that while we're trudging up the path toward publication, we can squeeze out
a few laughs along the way. Just don't tell those folks in Editing that you're
chuckling at them.
@Copyright Robynn Clairday
This article first appeared in @WRITER. ***
