I wrote recently about receiving rejections from literary agents. There is always a little disappointment to receive a negative response, after all, you are trying to gain a positive one. But I thankfully never feel it personally, or as a criticism of my idea or writing.

My initial approaches painted the complete picture of the Table Rappers project: it’s scope, plans for the future (seven books), details of the existing audio series, etc. But advice in the 2009 edition of Guide to Literary Agents, suggests a current negative reaction to multi-book proposals:

We’ve been seeing a lot more of these types of “series” presentations lately – the feeling being that the author needs to present a future “franchise” for the agent and publisher to get them more interested. In fact, it may send up a red flag about the author’s expectations.

I can see the logic in that thought. However much passion I have as creator of a series, if the first book doesn’t get a bite on its own merits, there’s never going to be a series.

I can understand why Agents, and publishers, are inundated with series proposals right now, with the successes of Harry Potter and Twilight for example.

When an agent reads about an author’s very first book, there is no way for them to measure whether that author is truly capable of more than one novel – some writers are simply one-hit-wonders.

Change is afoot

So, despite every instinct in me from my professional side to present the complete picture, I am pulling everything but the merest hint of hoping to write a series, focusing on the first book as something that will stand alone if it must.

In addition, I am trying a series of query letters rather than full submissions. If I cannot get some interest in the core idea in the first place, there’s little point in the cost and effort of sending a full synopsis and manuscript sample.

Targets have been designated, so watch this space for news of more rejections once I have them!

Several years ago when messing with script writing I collected a a whole pile rejection letters. From carefully considered, personal comment and advice, to a simple photocopied strip of paper with a standard negative notification, each one each one meant one thing: I was not sitting around allowing fears and insecurity to overcome my ambition.

What surprised me about that first experience with those letters was how impersonally I took the rejection. I took to heart the advice that rejection is a necessary evil for all writers, and simply accepted it. Admittedly, the more extreme, impersonal paper strips sting just a little as they do suggest your work had not even been looked at, but the handful that offered genuine advice and useful information were well worth it.

I have mentioned previously how difficult it will be for me to land a literary agent without a background in the business and before I have a publishing offer, so I cannot hang all my hopes on any one particular approach. Someone out there somewhere, sometime will hook into the project, understand it, and appreciate how it might become successful.

Never fear rejection, never take it personally. Celebrate your rejection letters because they signal that you are actively trying, getting your work under people’s noses, and playing the game.

UPDATE 05/05/09: The third rejection letter arrived a few days ago. Time to tweak the style of the approach and hammer down another three doors!