Agreed that publishers are swamped with manuscripts, and the bit about agents is spot on. I’m not sure acquisition editors are as eager to reject as they’re rumored to be, but, hell, I as a reader reject a majority of even published books based on the first few pages, so why wouldn’t they? Time is about the most valuable possession in today’s world, and acquisition editors are far more skilled than I am to judge a book (and its writer) by its first few/middle/end pages, or synopsis, or even query letter.
Steven Brust brought up a great way to look at it in a speech recently. Writers and readers have a relationship much like that between people and their banks. Writers "deposit" value with their readers, be it through immersive / evocative style, competence with content and craft, appealing treatment of important to the reader topics, relatable characters, etc. etc. They "withdraw" every time they challenge the reader’s suspension of disbelief, make a craft or content mistake, clash with the reader’s preconceptions of the story or the world in general, etc. etc. If the writer withdraws more than what they’ve deposited, especially in the beginning, they go bankrupt (and you get books thrown against walls).
Acquisition editors are readers, first, and they are far quicker to process withdrawals.
I haven’t seen statistics on how many authors have debuted through traditional publishing (especially with the big houses) in YA in the past few years vs. ten years ago or something, so I can’t speak to that.
Don’t get me started on sensitivity editors, though (says the Eastern European =).
What I know for sure is that agents and editors out there are looking for fresh authors. The old stablemate is fine and great, but no business model survives only by doing the same old thing over and over again. Readership changes, demand changes, trends and dominant sensibilities change. Some of the brilliant authors out there whip up amazing stories that stand the test of time or even drive these changes. On the other hand, from everything I’ve read, it’s harder to re-brand an established author than it is to launch a new one.
Have the odds in the debut lottery changed? If they have, I’d personally (without any data) put it on the quantity and quality of supply and a demand in greater flux than in the past, and not on the methods of fulfilling the demand.
Reading is massively subjective, and (good) editors are people who are trained to balance their subjectivity with their knowledge of the market/demand.
The story of Rowling is interesting (as are the stories of many of the big names who went through a ton of rejections) in that Harry Potter filled a huge demand editors weren’t necessarily aware of and actively trying to fill. That the people who put in the resources to launch her properly figured out that Harry Potter is not only worth publishing, but should be pushed big, is part of that lottery, in my opinion.
On the flipside, Kindle and the others (including the hybrids of self-publishing and traditional publishing) might have shifted the landscape, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying they’ve ruined it. They’ve made it harder for midlisters who aren’t actively involved with their fanbase, and they’ve made it harder on neophyte authors by luring them down the difficult road of self-publishing before they’re ready, or really know what it is they’re getting into. They’re also pushing writers to acquire skills beyond storytelling, complicating it all further, but these skills potentially help traditionally published authors too, especially the ones who aren’t launched big out of the gate.
What matters, though, is that readers are still finding the books they like, because word-of-mouth is even more powerful in the age of the internet.
Different is not automatically bad.
Finally, the notion that "great writers aren’t getting discovered" for any reason... Define "great"?
From my personal experience, one’s "great" is another’s "what is this silly thing I’m looking at?" So my own windy writerly road took me on a year-long quest for feedback on multiple stories through multiple avenues, including professional (non-acquisition) editors. Each and every sample I’ve sent out has gotten at least one "this is great / I’d love to edit the whole thing" and one "utter &%$^ / wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole, go jump off a bridge (figuratively speaking)."
Probably even more tellingly, a novel partial I workshopped with professional writers and editors got positive notes from everyone but the Hugo-winning (acquisition) editor in the room. Interestingly enough, when it got to his turn (he went last) to elaborate on his notes (which called for a major restructure), he stayed silent for a while, then said that after hearing the reactions around the room, he had reconsidered his notes and maybe the structure of the opening was indeed better as is. (of course, that doesn’t mean he’s knocking down my door to acquire that story =)
The reason I’m retelling my own experience is to explain my reasons for believing the following: Editors are people. Their decisions are subject to multiple factors, some data-driven and others, gut-driven. They’re not exempt from mistakes, and they will admit their mistakes when they make them.
No reason for being turned down is "stupid," though. Even the mistakes are honest ones. Traditional publishers want the stories that will break out, and hopefully break out big. That means, they want stories they believe readers will love.
And (I honestly believe) there’s no single story that will satisfy all readers. So, do the best you can with your stories, toss them in the hat (or promote the hell out of each if you go the self-publishing/hybrid way), and hope they’ll find their readers.
Either way, good luck!
I’m in agreement about the necessity to screen out cliche plots and subjects and material that might pose a gamble. Lousy writing also deserves to get the boot. But the rejections of excellent material by our now famous and classic writers is very, very long indeed--it is so long, it doesn’t make any sense. This does show a subjectivity that ranges from one spectrum to the other, making it nearly a crap shoot or lottery endeavor. You would not believe my own experience in 28 years, three agents and close to 500 book rejections. But forget me, there are others who write circles around me and go unnoticed for years and years. At the risk of being run out on a rail, I will say that the major fault lies with the Kindle program, furnishing a program for anyone in the world to publish anything they want, and then beat the virtual streets to promote and market. it. This deluge has caused a very diluted atmosphere for very serious writers who are currently repped. The vetting process is no more. It is now, who can write the most books and name-brand one’s self.
For large-house trade publishing, I believe it is timing and the right editor that determines publication. Or it is so commercial that books like Twilight and 50 Shades are ambulance chased by the Big Five because they have found favor with thousands of teenagers on the likes of WattPad and Booksie, and can rake in truckloads of money.
Your question is an interesting one. Debut authors get turned down all the time, and probably in most cases it’s warranted. No doubt there are a few cases where it turns out to be a colossal mistake, e.g. JK Rowling et al. Most agents and publishers I have met are quite professional. But they are often in the "hit record" business, meaning they are trying to find authors who have a story they can fit into what’s currently popular. That often means they aren’t willing to take the gamble to work with fiction that might be too niche or for which there isn’t a proven, large audience. Hence, the rise of indie publishing, Kindle, Inkshares etc.
Do you have any examples of being turned down as a debut author for a stupid reason, and are you aware of the real rejections practices of agents and publishers?
Do you have any examples of being turned down as a debut author for a stupid reason, and are you aware of the real rejections practices of agents and publishers?
Chris Stevenson, originally born in California, moved to Sylvania, Alabama in 2009. His occupations ...
An alcoholic ex-cop, a washed-up arms dealer, and a fugitive stripper face off against a sadistic cult in Los Angeles.
I write stuff. I parent. I love my fiancee. I am fond of Bigfoot and horror.
Steven Brust brought up a great way to look at it in a speech recently. Writers and readers have a relationship much like that between people and their banks. Writers "deposit" value with their readers, be it through immersive / evocative style, competence with content and craft, appealing treatment of important to the reader topics, relatable characters, etc. etc. They "withdraw" every time they challenge the reader’s suspension of disbelief, make a craft or content mistake, clash with the reader’s preconceptions of the story or the world in general, etc. etc. If the writer withdraws more than what they’ve deposited, especially in the beginning, they go bankrupt (and you get books thrown against walls).
Acquisition editors are readers, first, and they are far quicker to process withdrawals.
I haven’t seen statistics on how many authors have debuted through traditional publishing (especially with the big houses) in YA in the past few years vs. ten years ago or something, so I can’t speak to that.
Don’t get me started on sensitivity editors, though (says the Eastern European =).
What I know for sure is that agents and editors out there are looking for fresh authors. The old stablemate is fine and great, but no business model survives only by doing the same old thing over and over again. Readership changes, demand changes, trends and dominant sensibilities change. Some of the brilliant authors out there whip up amazing stories that stand the test of time or even drive these changes. On the other hand, from everything I’ve read, it’s harder to re-brand an established author than it is to launch a new one.
Have the odds in the debut lottery changed? If they have, I’d personally (without any data) put it on the quantity and quality of supply and a demand in greater flux than in the past, and not on the methods of fulfilling the demand.