Monday, November 24, 2008


It's a horrible word, isn't it? Rejected. Reject. Even worse when you put 'form' in front of it and use it to describe the response from a publisher. Even worse when, after more than a year, they confess they've lost it and ask you to re-send by email, so you do, and four days later the Form Rejection comes through your door. Does this mean they found it? Or they read my email super-quick?

Either way, not a fantabulous start to the week.


  1. Rejection is FOUL. For whatever perfectly good reason (like "it doesn't quite fit our list" or "we've just accepted something really similar" or "all our cheque books are in Iceland at the moment" or - my favourite - "we're only taking on best-sellers at the moment")

    You are a bloody good writer who makes people laugh/hot depending on your split personality. They aren't rejecting you, they're rejecting the story.

    Onwards and upwards, m'dear. It's the only way.

    PS - they read it really quickly because they felt guilty for losing it - that's happened to me before as well!

    PPS - Word Verification KARPHOL - doesn't that sound like an alien with a cold?

  2. Thanks Jan. They said it 'wasn't right for our publication schedules at the moment'. Which made me laugh, bitterly, since it might have been right when I sent it in.

  3. Thanks Julie. Wouldn't be quite so bad without that surge of hope about re-sending it!

  4. Kate - I'm stabbing cyber pins in their butts. Big bags of bums. I'm really sorry.

  5. Thanks Lexxie. I actually saw the publisher only the week before: if I'd have known I'd have tripped her up with my funky heels!

  6. She also saw you, of course. I expect she was jealous. Rejection by shoe envy.