The Problem With Mondays
And Tuesdays, actually. OK, so the problem with Mondays, and Tuesdays too if it's the first working day after a bank holiday weekend, and indeed sometimes even Wednesdays when it's Christmas...
OK, so the problem with the first-working-day-after-a-series-of-non-working-days is that sometimes that's when the bad news arrives. Because if you're the kind of a person whose job it is to give people bad news, and yes, let's be fair, chances are if you're in the Bad News Business you probably also dole out good news from time to time - the two do go together after all, but at the moment we're talking about the bad kind.
So. Yes. Anyway. If you are the kind of a person whose job it is to make Important Decisions that may Affect People's Lives, it's quite possible that your cogitation is done at the weekends. Especially if you are a literary agent, in which case your job involves reading Great Long Manuscripts which you wouldn't normally have time for during an average working week, so you probably read them at weekends and holidays. And if you don't like what you read, you're hardly going to go to all the effort of firing off a rejection email there and then, will you? No. You'll wait until you get into the office. First thing Monday morning. Or Tuesday, if it's a bank holiday. Or Wednesday, if it's Christmas and Christmas Day was on a Sunday.
I know this, because it's happened twice now. First thing Monday/Tuesday/Whatever morning, there sits the email. And I know it will be a rejection. And I am right.
Apparently (according to Miss Snark) it's pretty stupid to have a blog and write things like "I just got rejected by another agent" on it, if you're in the habit of handing out its url to prospective agents. Pretty Stupid. That too, I am.
The agents, of course, didn't know that the timing was bad. And even if they had, what could they have done? Hold onto the bad news and dole it out at some unspecified later date? Nah, better to get it over with. The first rejection came the day after we found out our other bad news. The second one came just over a week later (this morning).
I'm trying to arrive in the future, that's all. I'm just trying to get there. I thought I was on my way, but apparently not.
It's not the end of the world. There are more eggs in the ovaries, more sperm in the testicles, more literary agents in London, more publishers in the sea.
The agents said nice things ("There are lots of things I like about the book, in fact rather admire it" and "You are obviously a great storyteller and would be huge fun to work with and promote"), and there are publishers who want to see my work, and somewhere out there could be a smiling Clare Sudbery with a baby on her knee and a book on her head, but right now she's gritting her teeth and hoping at least that this afternoon's hospital scan shows that all traces of pregnancy are gone. Otherwise it's more bl... ah fuck, but that's another post.
___
OK, so the problem with the first-working-day-after-a-series-of-non-working-days is that sometimes that's when the bad news arrives. Because if you're the kind of a person whose job it is to give people bad news, and yes, let's be fair, chances are if you're in the Bad News Business you probably also dole out good news from time to time - the two do go together after all, but at the moment we're talking about the bad kind.
So. Yes. Anyway. If you are the kind of a person whose job it is to make Important Decisions that may Affect People's Lives, it's quite possible that your cogitation is done at the weekends. Especially if you are a literary agent, in which case your job involves reading Great Long Manuscripts which you wouldn't normally have time for during an average working week, so you probably read them at weekends and holidays. And if you don't like what you read, you're hardly going to go to all the effort of firing off a rejection email there and then, will you? No. You'll wait until you get into the office. First thing Monday morning. Or Tuesday, if it's a bank holiday. Or Wednesday, if it's Christmas and Christmas Day was on a Sunday.
I know this, because it's happened twice now. First thing Monday/Tuesday/Whatever morning, there sits the email. And I know it will be a rejection. And I am right.
Apparently (according to Miss Snark) it's pretty stupid to have a blog and write things like "I just got rejected by another agent" on it, if you're in the habit of handing out its url to prospective agents. Pretty Stupid. That too, I am.
The agents, of course, didn't know that the timing was bad. And even if they had, what could they have done? Hold onto the bad news and dole it out at some unspecified later date? Nah, better to get it over with. The first rejection came the day after we found out our other bad news. The second one came just over a week later (this morning).
I'm trying to arrive in the future, that's all. I'm just trying to get there. I thought I was on my way, but apparently not.
It's not the end of the world. There are more eggs in the ovaries, more sperm in the testicles, more literary agents in London, more publishers in the sea.
The agents said nice things ("There are lots of things I like about the book, in fact rather admire it" and "You are obviously a great storyteller and would be huge fun to work with and promote"), and there are publishers who want to see my work, and somewhere out there could be a smiling Clare Sudbery with a baby on her knee and a book on her head, but right now she's gritting her teeth and hoping at least that this afternoon's hospital scan shows that all traces of pregnancy are gone. Otherwise it's more bl... ah fuck, but that's another post.
___
Labels: Bollocks
5 Comments:
I don't think it's stupid to write about rejections from agents nm a blog. I think a literary agent can of all people should understand that it's your diary and you can write what you like.
Never mind Clare - some successul authors had to collect drawers full of rejection slips before anything too off.
And you mustn't underestimate how gobsmacking it is for someone who knows you (a little bit) to actually have a book with your name on on the spine on the bookshelves. You've cracked it once and I'm sure you'll be able to do it again.
Sorry about the rejection, Clare. I do hope the hospital visit goes well, though. *hugs*
Sorry, I seem to be coming over all incoherent this morning.
looby
I think it's time to start on the next book.
Looby, you're right of course.
Pierre, thank you.
Joe, you too are right!
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