I read a great response on Janet Reid’s blog regarding those who don’t send rejection letters, but rather abide by the “no response means no” rule…which I think is tacky. I’ve heard the same reasoning many times over at writer’s conferences, and from some of my own friends, and they never cease to amaze me.
“I”m sooo busy!”
One of friends lamented this to me over lunch a while back. Here’s the thing – we are all busy – so none of us can claim exclusivity to this aberration. It’s a given. But are we so busy that we can’t practice the slightest amount of good manners by communicating with those who sent us a query?
This whole “No response means no” thing is about as logical as saying, “If the phone doesn’t ring, it’s me.” Only Jimmy Buffet could think that up, bless his heart, but he makes a point, which is that he can’t be bothered to call, so that silent phone is supposed to be a reflection of his love. Uh huh. I consider it as big a cop out as not sending rejection letters.
We all have to practice effective time management. I reserve one day to reading queries. Same for reading manuscripts, editing, marketing and promotion. If I’m organized, then I’m working efficiently. Does it always work out that way? I wish! But above all else, I reply to every single query.
The only exception is if the author sends something that’s out of our zip code. I don’t publish cookbooks, mystery, SF, fantasy, Westerns, etc., so I’m not going reply to those. My justification is that the author can’t be bothered to read our submission guidelines, so I won’t be bothered replying. Tit for tat, and all that jazz.
Reading queries on a cellphone
Many of us read queries on our cellies. I do it all the time, yet I hear the prevailing excuse that it’s “too hard to respond” via cellphone. I have a cure for that – when I return to my office, I send a rejection letter. I don’t need to re-read the query, I just send the rejection. Takes about a nanosecond.
“Ugh…all that copying and pasting”
The lament is that cutting and pasting is time consuming. I don’t see that at all because this is exactly what I do. I copy my form rejection letter once and paste it into each rejected query. It’ll continue to paste until you copy something else.
Again, it takes a nanosecond.
“It’s all so negative and depressing”
This is when we need to put our big boy and girl pants on. Rejection letters aren’t meant to be things of joy and light, but it’s ludicrous that you choose to avoid basic good manners because the negativity weighs on your shoulders. Our jobs aren’t all hugs and kisses. We rejoice when a book is finished and enters the world to great success. Agents share the same giddiness when they sell one of their clients’ books. But there also exists hardship and disappointment and we have to embrace those realities with the same maturity as we do with the great stuff.
In order to find the prince, I do have to kiss a lot of frogs, so I agree that it is heartbreaking to wade through many queries that don’t tickle my fancy. But I don’t buy that any agent or editor is too sensitive to bear the weight of sending a rejection letter. Isn’t that more honest and fair than keeping an author in the dark, waiting and wondering?
Some of the prevailing excuses for “no response means no” are that agents and editors will avoid hearing from those who feel compelled to write nastygrams. We all know there exists a small pocket of snarkies who delight in telling us to go forth and multiply with the barnyard animal of our choosing.
The truth is, you can’t avoid them, no matter what you do, and I don’t think the No Responders still don’t receive a few emails blasting them a new orifice for not have the good manners to at least send them a rejection letter. So what have they accomplished?
Case in point; I had a writer insert dynamite in places where dynamite has no business being placed because she sent me a query 60 days prior and I hadn’t gotten back to her. It turned out that I’d never received it. She was all apologies sprinkled with love and kisses. She had the temerity to re-send her query, which I rejected faster than the beagle can inhale a margarita…about a nanosecond. Who needs rude?
Is the excuse that we can’t handle a weency populace whose brains reside at the bottom of the beagle’s food dish? Aren’t we made of tougher stuff than that? It’s not like these nastygrams make up a large portion of our days, so are we unable to simply ignore and delete?
Why Did You Reject Me?
I wrote an entire chapter on this very topic in Tackle Box so authors wouldn’t write back to agents and editors asking for reasons. The hard, cold truth is that we don’t and won’t reply. Another harsh reality is that we aren’t obligated to state the reasons why. A no thank you is just that. There are times when I might list a quick explanation why someone’s work isn’t right for me, but that’s few and far between. I understand it’s frustrating not not know why authors were rejected – that’s why I wrote the chapter in Tackle Box.
In truth, we won’t remember why we rejected it unless we go back and re-read the query because we read A LOT of queries. It’s hubris for an author to expect that we’ll remember them after reading a one-page query.
But the action is the same – ignore and delete these “why me?” emails.
The 30-day standard…or is it 60 days? Um…90?
Agents and editors who prescribe to this no-response thing help with increasing the size of the confusion zone because they talk about the “standard,” meaning a golden parachute that absolves them of responsibility after 30 days. But others adhere to 60 days, and others, still, go with 90 days.
So which is it, and when should an author assume they’ve been summarily dismissed? Unless it says on the agent’s or editor’s submission guidelines, there isn’t a definitive gold standard. Though, I’ll admit to some impatience to the author who called me after a week. There’s eager, and then there’s holding the reins too tightly.
The end result of all this is to not look for excuses as to why you won’t or can’t send a rejection letter, but to remember that authors take the time to send us a thoughtful (most of the time, that is) and earnest query letter, and it’s our job to be polite and send them a response. We have the time and the ability, so we should also have the good manners as well.