I started sending my children’s book, “This Little Piggy” to prospective literary agents recently. It’s not a fun process but whatever. I know having an agent is the way to go, but I wish I could submit directly to publishers but most publishers would prefer to work with an agent, so there you have it.
I am used to rejection. I have to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to shake off. Whenever I start a new project and send it to prospective publishers, the first rejection stings the worst, and the ones that follow are easier to forget about. I learned this a while ago when I tried shopping around another book I had done. This was pre-Uptown Girl.
But anyway, on Friday I came home to a big white envelope from an agent I sent the book to. I knew it wasn’t good news, it was a rejection letter and I hadn’t expected to be picked up by this particular agency, but it still put me in a bad mood and I kind of moped around the rest of the day. The letter was to the point with a compliment and a criticism. It was something like this:
Of course, the rest of the day I started to wonder if the book wasn’t very good, and I should redo it or perhaps move onto something else. These kind of thoughts put me in a tailspin and I wasn’t productive the rest of the day because this is how letters like this feel:
So, onto the next agent…