Agent #14 wrote one of the kindest rejection letters I’ve ever received. It’s a form letter, but it’s a kind form letter, kind enough to aid my delusions that this agent really didn’t want to reject me, delusions abetted by knowing that it took three weeks instead of the promised two to get a response: either she was deluged with more queries than usual or she sat on mine for a week, pondering if she wanted it.
Clearly it was the latter. Clearly this was a stunningly difficult decision. Clearly, she would have requested a partial if…
If what? Honestly, I have no idea. When I started this whole blogging-about-my-agent-search thing, I think I assumed that I’d find an agent relatively quickly. After all, I’m shopping around a polished novel. Well, apparently a lot of other people are, too, and either their novels are better than mine or their query letters are. Or both.
(And I suppose, if I found an agent after a mere ten months of submitting queries, that would be considered quickly, since the publishing world moves at the pace of a two-toed sloth crossing a glacier.)
The strange thing is, I almost don’t care that I got this rejection. All things being equal, of course, I’d rather she asked for a partial, but when I reflected on my day to share my highlight and my lowlight with my family at dinner last night, I didn’t think to name this as my lowlight. Crazy, I know, but it didn’t even occur to me. I must be growing up. Or growing a thick skin. I suppose that’s one thing repeated rejection will do for you: you get so used to it that it no longer surprises, let alone bothers, you.
At least that’s my perky theory. We’ll see if I’m right when Agent #15’s rejection comes rolling in.
After our chat on Sunday, I’ve bookmarked your blog so I won’t miss out on any more exciting news. Never a dull moment in the Conway-Ireton world, I see… Love your writing, too (what does Agent #14 know?).
Agent #14 was conflicted … and I’m praying that Agent #15 is smitten!
And I get it — I cried the day we bought the six-year old minivan. I liked our crew cab truck — we once drove 24 hrs straight to Florida with 4 kids in our truck. The van is now 13 years old and I love to bits the two beautiful kids that came after the truck
Twins! Oh, girl! !!!!!!!!!! I’m smiling… and praying… and so loving you from here.
Shine on, Kimberlee!
All’s grace,
Ann
Well, I’m glad you’re not taking that rejection letter too hard. Your novel is wonderful, and I know you will find the right agent, the one who sees it for the brilliant piece of work it is.