So about a year and a half ago, I jumped in. I’d had a story that I’d carried around for years in several different variations. I took that idea, peopled it with folks who, eventually, became more real than the people around me, plugged away and finally, just over a year later was able to type the words I’d worked toward: THE END.

Then I spent a month or so in the rewrite, editing process. I made a total of five copies of the, now edited, manuscript and have had several friends and acquaintances read it. I was selective about who read my baby, not wanting someone to just come back to me saying they loved it just because they love me. Everyone who’s read it has given me extremely positive feedback. One of my readers even likened my hero, A.J. Charbonneau, to Jamie Fraser of the Diana Gabaldon Outlander series. A higher compliment could not have been given.

Next I spent a month or so creating a synopsis and query letter. That process is more intense and difficult, and way less fun, than creating an entire novel. But once done, I polished and re-polished and jumped into the querying process. I had decided that I really wanted an agent since I didn’t have a clue how to sell my baby to a publisher. So I selected eleven agencies, did my homework on names and addresses and what pieces they wanted (i.e. synopsis, query letter, and first three chapters or a variation thereof.) Finally, I addressed the query letters, put stamps on return envelopes (which can become quite expensive, I might say) lovingly loaded the envelopes and sent them off into the cruel world of literary agents on a cold November day.

And then I waited. . . oh, and started the second novel because it was easier to wait that way and I have become addicted, but that’s another story.

It’s now February and I have some observations about this process. Since November 13^th, when I sent out 11 query packets, I have now received 8 rejection letters.

One letter was on a half a sheet of paper (and I know this person, who is famous for their how-to book can afford an entire sheet of paper.)

Of the 8, 7 were obvious form letters. They either started with "Dear Writer" or nothing at all.

Of those 7, two were actually signed by someone, two had "copied" signatures, and three had no signature whatsoever.

Only one letter, and I felt like framing it, was actually addressed to me. It mentioned the title of the novel twice in the body of the letter and was signed by the assistant to the agent. What a breath of fresh air!

Because of this experience, I have a few ideas about the process.

1) In this day and age, wouldn’t it be nice to have these people email you with the rejection? It would save me $2-$3 on them sending the packet back. They could simply shred the pieces I sent them and reject me by email.

2) I am thinking seriously about sending in a rejection reply letter to make it easier for these people to give me "feedback." It will have boxes that they can simply check off before sending it back to me.

____Didn’t read any of this - can’t be bothered

____Read your letter only - not inspired

____Read the entire thing, think it’s marvelous but still unwilling to represent you at this time

____Had a horrible lunch at a pricey restaurant - can’t be bothered

Well that’s just the flavor of the thing. It constantly amazes me how hard it is to find someone in this business to give your money to. (You can be assured that I’m keeping a list and the ones who couldn’t even sign their letters aren’t going to get a penny of my money!)

3) I’m thinking seriously about approaching some of these agencies and selling them MY services in creating rejection letters that do not so poorly reflect on their agency and the industry as a whole.

That all said, I am even now getting together a list. This time I will send my query packets out to the publishers themselves. If I finally do get a sale, and want to find an agent to work out all the paperwork, you can bet that the one I’ll call first, sale in hand, is the one who personalized their rejection letter.

Oh, and I have put together a rejection of the rejection letter that I’m seriously thinking of sending. You can read it here.