If you’re pursuing traditional publication, brace yourself, because you’re gonna get rejection letters.
Even when a project ends up finding a literary agent and eventually a publisher, the “nos” almost always arrive before the “yeses.” Every single bestselling author you’ve ever heard of has received rejection letters at some point, and some received a mountain’s worth.
Aside from making great wallpaper, kindling, and kitty litter, believe it or not: rejection letters do serve a purpose. You can make yourself a better and more successful writer if you analyze them properly.
(I also offer online classes with exclusive resources about finding literary agents that you can take at your leisure where I talk more about deciphering rejection letters. And if you need personalized help, I can help edit your query letter or you can book a consultation to ask questions.)
But for today, allow me to dive into everyone’s least favorite part of the publishing process: the dreaded rejection letter.
In this post I’ll cover:
- Why rejection letters are so difficult to decipher
- What rejection letters look like from an agent’s perspective
- Individual rejection letters are rarely helpful
- Pay attention to the trends
- The two scenarios where individual rejection letters are helpful
Why rejection letters are so difficult to decipher
Here’s the big problem with rejection letters: it’s practically impossible to make sense of a form letter that maybe includes one little teensy tiny bit of individualized advice.
Plus, they can be completely contradictory. One rejection letter could say “needs more monkeys” (probably came from me back when I was an agent) and the other letter could say “too many monkeys” (some lesser agent).
And that’s if you’re lucky enough to receive a personalized response, let alone a response at all. Many agents now have a “no response means no” policy, which means you have little way of knowing whether the silence is really a rejection or if your query was swallowed into an electronic black hole.
What’s a writer to do?
Well, as a former literary agent, first let me tackle this question from the other side of the computer screen so you have a sense of what’s happening over in literary agent land.
What rejection letters look like from an agent’s perspective
Literary agents receive thousands upon thousands of submissions every year. That translates to dozens every single day, 365 days a year. Staying on top of slush is like being responsible for mowing the world’s fastest-growing grass.
Out of that deluge, an agent will take on maybe a small handful of clients every year. And because agents work on commission, every moment spent responding to non-clients is a moment they’re not making money.
Because of that, literary agents usually either 1) don’t respond to query letters unless they’re interested, or 2) rely on generic form rejections.
It used to be typical for agents who requested an author’s manuscript to send a personalized reply giving some reasons for passing if it’s a “no,” but that too is going by the wayside.
And I’m going to be totally honest with you: When I was a literary agent, my rejection letters were not usually very helpful.
My rejections tended to be vague, formulaic, and brief. But polite!
Why? I didn’t want to lead anyone astray.
When a manuscript or proposal was a “pass” for me, chances are it was simply because I wasn’t feeling that zing I felt whenever I wanted to take an author on. But I wasn’t always able to articulate precisely why that was the case, and oftentimes I hadn’t read enough to be able to provide a particularly insightful critique.
If I was able to put my finger on the reason for the lack of zing, I would absolutely tell the writer. But most times? I said enough to show the author I really read it, but not enough that my response would actually be all that helpful.
It’s crucial to bear in mind that when you’re getting a rejection letter from an agent, they’re probably just finding something to say to soften the “no.” They’re not spending their entire day racking their brain to give you the best feedback imaginable.
Individual rejection letters are rarely helpful
Here’s the secret to understanding these maddening missives:
Rejection letters are almost always worthless by themselves.
Unless a rejection letter happens to be incredibly detailed and the feedback resonates with you on a gut level (more on these holy grails of rejection in a bit), you’re probably not going to learn too much from any rejection letter. And you’re going to learn even less if you analyze a rejection letter for hidden meaning (you’re also going to rack up the psychiatry bills).
Yes, I know, it’s so tempting to take encouragement from a personalized, detailed rejection letter with fulsome praise and an agonized pass that’s ultimately still a no. And you have to collect the hope wherever you can get it in this process.
But at the end of the day, a beautifully written, encouraging “no” and a form rejection “no” and a super mean “no” are functionally the same. They’re all just different flavors of “not for me.”
It’s more helpful to pay attention to what agents do, not what they say.
And that’s why one letter by itself usually isn’t much help, no matter how positive or negative it is. BUT. When you start accumulating rejections, you can start to make more sense of them by analyzing the trends.
Pay attention to the trends
I highly recommend sending query letters in batches of 7-10 at a time. Receive a rejection or two months of silence go by? Send another one out. Keep 7-10 floating out there at any given time.
If, however, after 15-20 queries you haven’t gotten a single manuscript or proposal request and you received only form letters, something’s wrong.
The most likely scenario is that your query letter isn’t working, and you may need to take a step back for a revision (or get editing). But it could also be your project isn’t marketable, you queried the wrong agents, or, for whatever reason, it’s just not clicking.
Something is preventing you from getting in the door. Struggling to get requests doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a bad writer, but it means that you’re due for a reevaluation of your query, your overall project, and your approach to the process.
If, however, you’re getting requests for partials (hooray for you!) and fulls (even better!), but you’re not getting an agent to bite and offer you representation, it may mean that you’re close to the zone for getting representation, but that something isn’t quite right, and maybe you can make some changes to the manuscript that will make your project better.
And then there are “revise and resubmit” requests, which means you’re in the ballpark, but maybe not quite all the way to an offer of representation. If an agent is investing time in you or keeping the door open, they’re showing you you’re close.
This is where an accumulation of personalized rejection letters can actually be helpful in gauging how well things are going. Again: for the most part, judge by what agents do, not what they say.
Nothing but rejections and silence? Something’s wrong. Re-evaluate.
Requests for the manuscript/proposal and doors kept ajar? Keep going. You’re in the zone, and may just need a dash of luck for lightning to strike.
The two scenarios where individual rejection letters are helpful
Once you’ve accumulated some personalized rejection letters, spread those bad boys out on the table. Avoid the temptation to set fire to said table. And start to analyze the common threads.
Don’t go nuts with this. You aren’t looking to crack some secret code here. Just see if there are a few common threads that you can pick out from the personalized rejections.
Maybe a few people said they are worried about your pacing. Or maybe a few had similar problems with certain characters or plot lines.
Here’s the next most important step: if you are hearing the same piece of feedback more than once: listen. Don’t say, “Oh, well, my work is what it is, agents are just STUPID.” Agents are not stupid. Most of the time. Consider addressing any piece of feedback you’re hearing from multiple agents.
Or, if a rejection letter speaks to you, and you know in your core the agent is right, definitely take a pause and revise accordingly.
You ultimately have to write the book you want to write and you shouldn’t bend past your comfort level. But don’t overthink a rejection letter that leaves you saying, “Huh?” Again, most individual rejection letters are just a “not for me” and you’d be better off just moving on.
Once more: Focus on the rejection letters that:
- Resonate with your gut
- Repeat feedback that you’ve heard before
If you do that, you’ll learn as much as possible from your rejection letters without going crazy.
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED: February 22, 2007
Need help with your book? I’m available for manuscript edits, query critiques, and coaching!
For my best advice, check out my online classes, my guide to writing a novel, and my guide to publishing a book.
And if you like this post: subscribe to my newsletter!
Art: Jove decadent by Ramon Casas
All good advice – thanks for an excellent blog.
It’s also an illustration of why you should approach agents instead of publishers. Aside from the big difference in response times (agents usually being much quicker) you can also make simultaneous submissions.
When I started out I queried four publishers, one after another, and the average response time was 6-8 months. I soon realised I could be at it for decades. (Australia isn’t exactly brimming with agents, which is why I went direct.)
I still see the occasional whinge from authors who don’t want an agent because they don’t want to pay a commission on ‘their’ money. Maybe they should try and get published first, and then worry about divvying up the proceeds.
Mr. Bransford,
I’m glad I found your blog! Thanks for taking the time to try and help out the struggling authors!!
I find rejecting letters both impossibly hard to take and exciting, as they renew my vigor in resending out queries (wierd, huh!).
My question to you, as an agent, is this: My manuscript was requested by a very well respected agency. I called a few weeks later when I had done a revision (requested by another agent) to ask if the agent might want a copy of the revision – the answer was yes, and I was surprised to hear that the agent would be reading my manuscript personally because she had “received a very good read on it” already.
Today I recieved a form rejection letter from that agent. I know agents are incredibly busy, but what should I make of this? What does it typically mean if an agent has received “a good read”? Do agents use beta readers? Also, I assume then that my manuscript wasn’t even worthy of a personal response of where it was lacking – What should new writers take away from such an event?
Any advice is much appreciated! And again – thaks for the great blog!
Melissa
Melissa-
Thanks for the great question. This is a case where you can’t read too much into the form letter. Agents are busy and they don’t always have time to write a personalized note. That’s a great sign that they requested the revised MS again, but I wouldn’t feel extra bad that you didn’t get a more personalized note afterwards.
Do people really send you vengeful “moron, you’ll be sorry when I’m rich” letters? Seriously? There are multiple people who do this? I thought it was an urban myth…
I have on occassion weighed up the pros of being a Good Citizen against the cons of annoying a busy agent, and sent a brief thank-you email in response to email rejections. Here is what surprises me even more than agents receiving Up Yours notes: I got replies. Brief and simple, but jaw-dropping in their very existence.
I have a strong suspicion that agents are actually human, and not undead agents of satan after all.
Cheers!
Can I ask you a question about starting points? I know it’s off base of rejection letters, but it appears they are all tied in together – if your story doesn’t start well then you are asking for a rejection letter.
Agents seem to differ a bit on where to start a story. What is the “majority rule” on this? Does one start at the turning point or is a brief intro to the setting or character better?
Sorry to get off base, but it seems like I should strike while the irons hot!
Thanks again!
Hey, Nathan, now that you are getting groupies, what should we call ourselves? Miss Snark has her Snarklings…so, what would that make us? Brannies? Naters? Brownies (since you work for Curtis Brown)?
Ozal-
Ohhhhhh yes. I’ve received many a “you’ll be sorry when I’m a rich bestseller” e-mail. I’m always surprised when I get them, but I do.
Melissa-
It’s impossible for me to say where to start. Only you can know that for sure. You are definitely right though, however it starts it needs to be good right away.
I have to say, when I got your rejection the other day I wanted to email you back to thank you for your nice reply and professionalism. (There, I did it anyway.) But I know it’s not done. Can’t even imagine writing back something nasty. I wonder why writers think this is something other than a business?
As an editor, even at our small zine, we get our share of replies to rejections. The kiss of death is to write anything personal. Sad, but true. I’ve only gotten one “mean” thing though, and it wasn’t that bad.
While I’m on the subject, I really believe in cutting your teeth on short works. It builds your resume, it gets you accustomed to rejection in manageable bites, and nothing hones your writing skills like short stories.
I had an editor say “Sorry, I like your story but it isn’t (pick one – Sci-Fi, horror, romantic, noir, literary) enough for our publication.”
Another said “the editorial board enjoyed your story but it isn’t for our publication.”
I guess those are compliments.
Sounds as if “didn’t connect with” from some outweighs any “excellent”, “fine” and “strong” from others.
~sobs~
The nicer rejections I got were helpful because they made me, a newbie, realize AGENTS ARE HUMANS. Sometimes very nice humans. We newcomers are trained to fear and loathe you nasty gatekeepers, standing between our oeuvres and the NYT best sellers list. I got some very lovely comments that while were still rejections, encouraged me to continue the process.
Hello All,
The people who write those nasty notes are the same people who cut you off on the road and hold up the nasty finger – they have no self control and see criticism as a personal attack rather than helpful advice. Or, they’re just plain loony!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all agents could take a minute to write a personal note – and since that can’t happen because the slush piles are probably taller than I am, let’s just be thankful that we’re still recieving letters and not the auto-reply email that states, “If I am not interested you will not hear from me.”
M
I’ve been getting rejections for three decades, and I can tell you one thing: it’s sure easier being rejected in an E-mail, than after you’ve sent out a manuscript by snail mail with SASE postage numerous times. 🙂 So, agents don’t mind getting a ‘thanks for taking a look’ E-mail? I had assumed from reading the Snark, it was just another thing to clutter up their E-mail boxes.
So I shouldn’t shred them and let my daughter use them as hamster bedding? Oops.
I finally decided that my current novel was just too long for a first-time author.
Hey School Marm –
My first novel (the one that’s currently vying for an agent!) was originally 180,000 words! I fought cutting it down for a long time, but after many requests for it to be 120K, which seems the norm for first timers, I did the dirty and cut it down. While I lost a lot of pretty prose and great backstory, I found it wasn’t necessary and that it now is a swiftly moving story!
Take the cut – it’s worth it in the end. I’ve had three agents request it since the revision – though I just got a fat rejection from one I was very excited about!
Good luck!
M
I don’t mind when people send back short “thanks for considering” e-mails — unfortunately I don’t change my mind once I’ve made a decision, and I can’t usually write back with more recommendations, but it’s not like I get mad when people thank me for considering their work.
You’ll probably notice, if you remember your queries (which, I can’t imagine that you remember them all because you must get tons!), that I requeried you (the first was 12/06). I did so because another agent suggested that when you do a significant rewrite you should write a new query and try again. Probably a pain to some agents (sorry!). But it is always worth a try – I did get two requests by requerying. Thanks for the prompt reply, though!
As far as notes back to agents, I send thank you comments back when an agent has sent a non-form letter. Otherwise, I assume they are too busy to read that sort of email.
I’ll probably query you again with my next manuscript (if no agent picks up this one), which is a different genre all together.
Looking forward to your blog! There’s nothing better than hearing about the industry from those who are entrenched in it!
Thanks again!
Melissa
One of the things I’ve seen is that though many writers try to summarize their novel for the query letter, they have utterly no clue what the story is about–and that comes through in the query leter. They talk about events happening or backstory or describe things, but never get to anything that ties the whole book together.
If you’re getting tons of rejections and no bites, it might not be the query letter–it might be the book itself. If you can’t define the story, it may be that the book doesn’t have one. It is entirely possible to write a book without a story, just a collection of a events. I know. I did that.
I’ve had a few rejections. One of them “form” letter.
The agent was the one that confused me the most. I was ready to let my first ms die a dignified death in some hard to find file on my computer when my scintillating query letter caught an agent. Per request I sent the first 10 Pages. Got an R with a “Rewrite this and send it back”. Okay. Did that. Got another rejection. Both times the note was short but hand written on a form rejection. I considered that generous.
I’m planning on resubmitting to them, but I want it to be a single title they can get behind. Soooooo, I’m still writing away.
Everyone I’ve submitted to has been more than human. I haven’t gotten one ugly rejection.
Though I’ve seen some rejection letters that have perfected the art of the backhanded compliment.
I’ve had rejections on 2 fulls and 1 partial, I guess that’s not a whole lot yet but Jeff Kleinman says if you get 4 or more fulls rejected, you’re doing something wrong. Trouble is, nobody said anything bad — they all said “the writing’s good, I’m not the right agent.” What can be done then?
Lori-
I don’t know if you could really put a number on how many rejections is too much. Just keep trying!
Here is my question: I have just started to shop my new novel, and I got three rejections already; all saying it's "too commercial". What on earth does that mean? And how am I supposed to change that, if at all?