When to Reject Rejection
By Julianna Baggott | April 22, 2021 |
This is a short PSA.
I want to talk about a very specific kind of rejection from editors – the one about how they just didn’t connect with the main character or characters. It has variations, but basically they didn’t find the character likable or relatable enough or they didn’t fall in love with the character enough – not to the level they needed in order to make an offer.
I’ve been publishing for decades. I’ve had twenty-some novels published. This means that I’ve seen a lot of rejection. For every novel that found an editor, there was a stack of rejections. Plus, many of my friends are writers and I’ve taught writing for years so I also hear from my students with books that have gone out on submission.
And so, friends come to me after a few rejections of this kind and they’re often upended. They now believe that they wrote characters that are unlovable. They have to rewrite the book so that their characters deserve love or at least to be liked.
Of course the writers can’t help but take it personally. I don’t have to go on here about where characters come from.
Women writers often hear the message within the message and it’s not new to them. Be more likable. It can land as: Why don’t you have your characters smile more? Why can’t you smile more?
For writers who come from underrepresented communities, who are BIPOC or LGBTQ+, those who are writing about things like poverty or violence against women – this list could go on and on — the note that the editor doesn’t connect to the characters can land hard. It can seem that the publishing world is telling the writer that their experience is too foreign, too much from the edges. It can feel like being othered when often the entire novel exists in order to show – beautifully, painfully – what othering feels like.
I don’t think editors are mindful of this at all. This is a larger problem that I won’t tackle here. I believe this response is so pervasive that it is, to them, a clear and quick way – a nearly nondescript way – to pass on a novel. Often the rejection comes with compliments about the writing but they do little to help if the larger note is so disorienting.
It’s become an absolutely predictable part of the process of having a friend’s book go to editors, so much so that I have prepared speeches to talk them through this kind of rejection.
I mainly tell them that this response — not connecting with the main character — is as close to a form rejection as it gets. It is the “I’m so sorry I already have plans” of the publishing world.
It means nothing. Do not fold. Do not rewrite your characters to make them shinier or more likable – whatever that means. Do not change in order to be more universal. We know the loss that can come from that — for you and for readers who need your specific voice and lived experience. Do not rewrite in hopes of connecting your experience to the unknowable experience of an unknowable editor.
Rewrite, revise – yes. Make the work stronger, always. But do not smile for them.
All of these responses – and likely many others that I’m not privy to – can open up old wounds, land hard in the writer’s body, and can end up being something they have to carry for a long time.
My hope in writing this PSA is that – before you have a book go out to the market – you expect this response from an editor here and there, and when you see it appear, you can stand a bit removed from it and say, “Oh, I was warned about you.”
And then move on and away.
Have you ever rejected a rejection? Why?
Julianna Baggott is the author of over 20 books, including two New York Times Notable Books of the Year, PURE and HARRIET WOLF’S SEVENTH BOOK OF WONDERS. She runs a film and television production company, Mildred’s Moving Picture Show,. Her latest book I’D REALLY PREFER NOT TO BE HERE WITH YOU is a collection of stories, many of which are in development at places like Netflix, Paramount, and Amblin. The feature film WHICH BRINGS ME TO YOU, based on the novel she co-wrote with Steve Almond, is currently streaming. www.juliannabaggott.com
Love, love, LOVE this insight. Often I think that when acquiring editors are working through hundreds of submissions, the vast majority of which they won’t accept for myriad reasons, that line is, as you say, a palliative phrase meant to make the rejection less harsh, the equivalent of “It’s not you; it’s me.”
I love your advice to take that at face value. Sharing this.
It’s as though you know EXACTLY what I’m going through right now, which feels pretty remarkable. I have four POV characters in my latest book, and it’s (almost) amusing to read editors’ rejections. “I connected with Maddie and Giuseppina, but didn’t like Serafina and Claire.” Next rejection: “I loved Serafina, but was less enthusiastic about Claire.”
Poor Claire. She gets no love, and she’s the one that holds everybody else together.
I’ve heard this said, and I think it’s true: ten percent of people will hate your work, eighty percent will feel varying degrees of indifference, and ten percent will be crazy about it.”
Here’s to our ten percent.
Stacey, tough as they are, those contradictory rejections tell you you’re in the game, and that what you’ve encountered is a matter of taste.
Onward!
Love that ending quote. Never heard it before and it will likely become a lifesaver (creativity saver).
Echoing Tiffany! Editors (and agents) are busy and can’t take time to compose individual responses, so they’ve created a generic reply that’s meant to soften the disappointment. I’ve seen so many writer friends go through the disappointment, bewilderment, and despair that comes from a rejection—especially if it follows a sentence of praise.
One thing that seems helpful is to realize that these agents are human beings, like us, trying to make it in the publishing world and pay their bills. Since they only make money if a book sells, they have to make decisions about which manuscripts are most likely to generate income for them—decisions about where to invest their time and energy, in the context of the marketplace at a particular moment in time. The decision may have zero to do with the quality of the story or the writing. The corollary to: “It’s not you, it’s me” is: “It’s not you, it’s the times, the context.”
There’s still a total power imbalance between writer and editor or agent, of course, and that’s hard. That’s why—if resources, temperament, and time permit—many writers opt for the hybrid route, which allows far greater control.
Great response, Barbara. It makes me feel better to see things the way you have framed them, rather than just hate on agents. And it underscores the importance of your suggestions about hybrids. Thank you.
Simple but important. It reminds me of a special rejection i got recently, one that I reframed so as to remind myself of the value my writing effort had for me if not for the recipient. I had taken an online course on Ancient Fiction, and the fifth and final book made me pace and scramble for days, to understand why it was so troubling, so insulting to fiction, so against my grain I crafted a one page detailed, concise, constructive analysis and sent it to the professor. Within 15 minutes he responded with a “Thank you for your valuable comments.” It was like a southerner saying, “Well bless your heart.” That fake smile intended as an ostensibly pleasant thank-you-but-no-thank-you.
I and my oft-unloved characters thank you, Julianna. I used to think it was better to at least have heard something from acquiring editors, as opposed to silence. Now I’m not so sure.
As usual, Julianna, you are brilliant. Concise, insightful, direct, powerful. Thank you so much for this. I especially appreciate that you convey the “othering” in publishing decisions— how that continues the marginalization of so many stories, including ones of violence against women.
I always love your posts, Julianna. They’re insightful and thought-provoking and this one is no different. I think you make an excellent point about the “other” being rejected, but I am heartened to see that publishing is being called to the carpet these days for not being more inclusive. I believe–hope–things are changing.
Another layer to this “your character wasn’t likable” thing I’ve dealt with myself with a character who has harsh edges, whose life and views and actions don’t fit into an “acceptable” box, and this, in my view, is precisely why this character is worth writing. These characters challenge us as readers, and as people, and I’m glad there are those of us out there willing to brave the rejection and to brave the reviews that judge harshly one who doesn’t smile.
“It is the “I’m so sorry I already have plans” of the publishing world.”
and
“Make the work stronger, always. But do not smile for them.”
A-freakin’-men.
“Do not rewrite in hopes of connecting your experience to the unknowable experience of an unknowable editor. Rewrite, revise – yes. Make the work stronger, always. But do not smile for them.”
Love this.
When a work loses its specificity, its jagged edges, it loses its teeth and very often loses its point. All of the books I have loved over the past decade could easily have been rejected in the manner you describe (and probably were a number of times before finding a home). I am not interested in easy, likeable, vanilla yogurt characters. And I don’t think editors really are either. They want something unique, but unique in a way that fits their own particular flavor preference, which, you rightly point out, we can’t know. Better to keep the flavor of your characters and your work and find an editor with a palate to match it instead of the other way around.
Love what you said.
I often remind myself that I think Edith Wharton is the GOAT, and huge swaths of the population (who even know who she is) disagree with my opinion.
That’s it.
That’s all I have to do to refresh my understanding that the Buddha was right: fingers pointing at the moon are not the moon.
We are all subject to likes and dislikes, hidden biases, parts of ourselves that remain hidden but govern our actions.
Editors, too.
Fortunately, I’m a war horse at this point. It’s hard to pierce this tough, leathery hide. But I do question their motivations and methods.
So many thank yous…
Thanks for this inspiring article and encouragement. Here’s another way of seeing inside the editor’s mind: look at the variations of reviews, especially on Goodreads (ha–or, maybe not!). One reviewer will love X character while another hates her. One will love Ms. X because she’s chubby; another might hate her because X is chubby.
Omg! This is such a meaningful article, especially in a world that wants conformity Don’t make waves, don’t get seen and the voices that are out there wanting to make us “fit” in their preordained structure. Your post hurts and brings hope. Too true in so many ways and so good to hear it spoken. You don’t have to sell your soul! I feel a rant coming on so will only say say, thank you for your gift of truth telling.
Amen! Busy editors simply do not have the time for a thoughtful response so this is a form R. Without specifics, not worth parsing or filing. I’d keep them as scrap paper for my kids and I think that’s how they learned about Rs. They wrote their own Rs when they were mad. “I reject you!” “I double reject your rejection! Haha!”
“I already have plans.” LOVE IT!
This is precisely what I’ve been experiencing. I went back to my work to make my protagonist “more likable”. I made a few tweaks to explain her character to the reader, but I couldn’t change her.
I hold on to the fact that two well known agents asked for a full. Even though they passed on the project, I take that as a good sign.
I’m still plugging away, with more hope now.
Thank you! 🥰
Thank you for this. And I am not dramatic in saying that your post here stopped me from a rewrite of my main character. I got one of these messages yesterday (talk about timing, you’re starting to make me believe in higher powers).
I’ve been up all night going over the”blah, blah. I love your concept, your writing, but your main character I can’t relate to…” (my protagonist is biracial, has Asperger’s Syndrome, and is obsessed with photographing tombstones). I seriously considered “toning her down” so that she could be “more relatable” even though I know in my gut this is wrong.
Asperger’s (now just called on the spectrum) runs in my family, which also happens to be biracial. At the request of family members, I wrote a kickass heroine who happens to be both biracial and on the spectrum. I know what I’m writing about with the portrayal of my protagonist. And after this post, no, I won’t “tone her down.”
Technical advice, advice on how to be a better writer, and I’m always listening. Still, changing my character to soothe someone’s comfort level, I’ve decided here and now is not happening.
That sounds like a super-cool, interesting protagonist! I would love to read her story! We need strong, edgy women in stories :-)
While I agree that negative character comments in rejection letters can simply be boilerplate, it is true that many agents and editors (as well as readers) wish to become emotionally affixed early on to the protagonist, feel sympathetic towards them, like them on some level as opposed to finding them bland or disagreeable.
As an author and editor, I’ve been hearing this for over twenty years. My accommodation isn’t to “smile for them” but to take into account the reality behind the boilerplate.
I understand what you’re saying here, Michael. However, the past year has brought the glaringly obvious into an even brighter tragic light. Systemic racism and bigotry are ingrained in our society. It’s long been the elephant in the room with the publishing and film industry.
So, there is a point where you have–to borrow from the Gambler:
Know when to hold ’em.
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
Nothing ever changes without challenging the status quo. And right now, there is a powerful movement based on knowing when to *hold ’em* breaking down the system to build it back better.
Julianna:
Your post reminds me of a scene from the movie Tootsie. The Dustin Hoffman character is auditioning on stage, when a voice calls out from the darkened theater: Thanks, but we’re looking for someone older, someone taller, etc. Hoffman replies that he can be older, taller, etc. Finally the voice says, “We’re looking someone else.”
Bottom line: we can’t be someone else. It’s pointless and painful to try to be someone else, regardless of the anonymous voices in the dark theater of the writing world, or of life.
I’m not even reaching out to publishers at this point, just agents. Without branding them merely crass or just commercial, I remind myself that this person has to make a living too, and to do that, they must find properties that they can sell.
I’ve never received a rejection that said, ” I don’t think I can sell this,” or even, “I can’t help you with this market.” The closest I have come is something along the lines of “To help you, I need to be passionate about your book, and I’m not.” It wasn’t quite that blunt, but that was the message. When I thought about it, I realized that I’d much prefer an agent who was passionate about my book. I’d just queried the wrong agent; it wasn’t about me or about the book. Next case.
The problem with .”… I can’t relate to your protagonist’ is, it’s not helpful. Probably not their job, but the question I’d want to ask is, “Why not? What’s wrong with my protagonist?” Too nice? Too mean? What, so if I agree, I can fix it?”
The first fifty or so rejections hurt. Now they’re just mildly disappointing learning experiences. I don’t know whether it’s perseverance or stubbornness, but I still believe in the book. It’s a good story.
Indeed, this is a FORM. So is “will not stand out in today’s market.” For some reason, we want specific feedback from editors/agents who are wa-a-a-a-y too busy to give it to projects they pass on. The two above phrases are not feedback, but a cursory “not for me.”
I actually have a male coworker tell my protagonist to “smile” in my novel. And yes, I’ve been told my protagonist needs to be more likeable to connect. Thank you so much for this timely PSA! Let’s be ourselves and let our characters be themselves!
Oh my god. I am so grateful for this post. For years and in many dozens of rejections (after placing well in two significant contests), I kept hearing “We love your writing, your verse is elegant and exquisite…” etc. “but I just don’t connect” OR “I’m not sure to whom I could sell this.”
I was writing a book as author and clinical social worker for young children in fourth through sixth grades that would address in authentic scenes and emotions the destructive impact of the diet industry and weight bias on young children. I believed in the book, revising and improving it over a decade. Between the anti-diet content, the Jewish content I was told to remove, and the authentic portrayal (for the first time in a young middle grade book) of my introverted character’s difficult struggle to find courage, body acceptance, and her strong voice, I could only make sense of
“I don’t know who I would sell it to” by assuming that my character was not happy enough (and also that many editors might not want to hear about how diets are destructive, and don’t work). I kept on. I finally found a small traditional press that loved the book. Now I have young children letting me know that the story (Reeni’s Turn) speaks to them, supports them, and guides them in the right direction. That’s enough for me.