No #fridayflash from me this week as I'm resting my short story muscles, but here's a true story, a cautionary tale that might strike a chord with my fellow writers and creative types. It's about taking risks to get your work noticed... and the danger of getting your hopes too high, too quickly...
(Names have been changed to protect the innocent. My name, therefore, remains unchanged.)
Recently in the evil Day Job, I've had reason to be in contact with the touring agent of a successful and well-known writer and TV personality. For the purposes of this story, we'll call the writer Alabaster Cuttlefish. Although our plans in regard to the Day Job failed to come to fruition, I found the agent I'd been dealing with to be a warm and personable type (a rarity in my job) so I decided to do something I'd never done before: use my contacts. People are always telling me it's not what you know but who, and that success in the arts is as much down to luck as talent... so why not?
Privately then, I dropped the touring agent - for the purposes of this story, we'll call him Tantalizing Margarine - a short email explaining that, outside the evil Day Job, I was a writer of far more interesting things, but that I'm terrible at self promotion, and find it hard to get my work seen by the right people. Having just completed my latest novel, I was faced with the daunting prospect of shopping it round potential agents, and wondered if he - being someone who worked with a number of successful writers such as Alabaster Cuttlefish - knew of any friendly literary agents who might be receptive to browsing a few chapters and giving me their feedback.
Tantalizing Marmalade replied quickly, telling me he was no expert on the literary field, but asking what my novel was about and who I saw as the target reader. I responded with a single paragraph synopsis and, after scratching my head for a little while, suggested the kind of reader I was aiming at... namedropping one of my favourite writers, Jubilee Bumblebee.
"Funnily enough," came the reply, "I happen to be best friends with Jubilee Bumblebee's editor at Trouserpig Press - and I also know his agent." (So much for not being an expert on the literary field!) "Tell you what, send me a chapter and I'll have a quick look..."
Never has so much been read into one idle ellipsis by one so foolish. Suddenly, my heart was in my mouth. This could be it! This could be the big break I've been looking for! "Take this Day Job and stick it!" My future starts here. I shot back an email with the first chapter and a more complete plot synopsis (plus a note to the effect that I would understand completely if he don't feel it was worth taking any further. After all these years writing, I was used to rejections). Then I sat by the computer, clicking Send & Receive on my inbox to speed up his reply. At last, I told myself, this was my moment...
I didn't have long to wait. Tantalizing Marmalade soon came back, responding that although he enjoyed the synopsis and structure, the style of the writing wasn't really for him - though he recognised he probably wasn't the target market. He went on to offer further constructive criticism... which I appreciated and took on board... while inside, inside I was dying.
If you could draw my hopes like a polygraph line they would shoot off the chart like Superman before the needle returned to the paper and tore through the bottom of the sheet like a serial killer's knife through a silk negligee. All in the space of one afternoon. Which may be why I'm not cut out for being a writer. It isn't that I lack the drive or (possibly) the ability... it's that I just wasn't built for rejection, and even after all these years, every time someone responds negatively - or without interest - to something I've written, I want to pack it all in and become a Yak farmer.
But I'll get over that. I've had plenty of practise. I know not every book is for every person, and the more successful a writer, the more the critics love to rip them apart. Just look at that infamous bestseller champion Teriyaki Concrete! I wonder if he cares that 50% of readers think he can't even string a successful sentence together? Or does he just concentrate on the 50% who'd buy his weekly shopping list in hardback? Perhaps such things don't matter once you're a success. The real trick to surviving the submissions process isn't about learning to deal with rejection... it's about learning not to get your hopes up. That's the killer. Because sometimes, hope is all that keeps you going...
