I hate Spam. No, I’m not talking about the mystery meat that comes in a can -which I hate as well. Doesn’t everyone? Well, except maybe the Hawaiians…and my mom, who tried to pass it off as ham back when I was a wee bairn. We weren’t fooled, and rebelled mightily. Nice try, Mom.
No, the Spam I’m talking about is the annoying drek that authors send to my BUSINESS ACCOUNT (for godsakes!) that announces their new books, their accomplishments/cries for support, blah, blah, blah. Makes me want to hurk in my Cheerios.
On any given day, my email account is filled with hundreds of emails, and every one of them gets read. Imagine getting piece upon piece of unwanted announcements about how you completed your cancer walk in the name of your new book, and may I count on your support? Wha’? I’m an editor, for cryin’ out loud. Long hours do not equal big pay. Only causes I’m currently supporting are those that keep the Rescue Beagles in designer doggeh chewies.
Other announcements are the typical “My book got published! Go buy! Go read!” They are invariably from authors whose manuscripts I rejected, and they feel the need/desire to rub my nose in it. Bully for them. No, really, I’m thrilled for anyone who realizes their dreams. I just don’t need to know about it because…well…um…I don’t care. I know that sounds harsh, but come on…editors and agents reject thousands of manuscripts a year. Can you imagine if even a third of those authors decide to spam everyone who rejected them? That’s a lot of crap mail clogging up a lot of email accounts.
I can assure these people of one thing: I will NEVER read their books or take them seriously again. Oh, I know…you’re thinking, “Come on, Pricey, the authors don’t care at this point. They got published, so really, they don’t care if they piss you off because they don’t need you anymore.” True. But burning bridges is a dangerous game.
Case in point: I rejected a manuscript after reading the full, which means I’d had a bit of back and forth conversation with the author. Ultimately, I decided he project wasn’t right for us and wished them the best of everything. A few months later, I got a spammy in my inbox announcing the publication of that book. Wow, that was fast, methinks. I ignored it and deleted it – mildly annoyed. About a week later, another spammy from the same author dumped into my inbox, gushing about how wonderful her publisher is, and come join her at a book event. Getting steamy at this point. A third one suggested I support her cause célèbre, which she’d written about in her book. Officially pissed off.
I emailed her and asked her to please remove me from her distribution list. She fired back something about “Oh, I’m not good enough for you, huh? Well, you’ll be sorry you didn’t publish my book when it hits the NY Times bestseller list!” If I had a dime for every time an author has spat that in my face, I’d own Europe.
About a year later, she wrote this gushy email about how mahvelous Behler is, what mahvelous books we publish, blah, blah, blah…I hardly need convincing; you’re singing to the choir, babe…and would I mind taking a look at her book? Yes, it was pubbed a year ago, but she’s grown disillusioned with her publisher and received her rights, and is now shopping around.
I remembered this little tart as my spammer with anger issues, and told her I’d rather someone stuff my Vickie Secrets with hot jellybeans and molasses than ever entertain a publishing relationship with a serial spammer. Okay, I didn’t really say that, but I did let her know that not only did I remember her, but I wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
Burned bridges are never a good idea because you never know when you’ll need that person at a later date. What feels like rainbows now may be a dog’s smelly behind in the future.
The lesson here is that publishing a book is a big deal. A BIG DEAL. You want to scream from the mountain tops about your lovely new baby. But there are effective ways to promote and ineffective ways. Spamming may be quick, down, and dirty, but it’s also a major pisser to the receiver. If you’re tempted to spam those who rejected you – you do so at your peril. Those rejecting agents and editors don’t care. Your rejection wasn’t personal, it was business. Don’t be tempted to slap someone’s face because your writing wasn’t their cuppa tea.
Instead, put up a blog post about your accomplishments. Shout it out on your Facebook page and Twitter. Create a newsletter and only send to those who sign up. But leave my email addy alone. Please. Otherwise, I’ll have to send out the Rescue Beagles after you – and they’re murder on tires and new shoes.