I need to have one of those super honest author moments, guys. I’m having a rough time. This whole querying agents thing is hard. Almost harder than submitting to publishers. Getting rejected by a publisher means they don’t want your book. Getting rejected by an agent feels like they don’t want your career.
Don’t get me wrong. I have had some wonderful feedback, and send all the good vibes because the dream agent is looking at my materials. But it still feels tough. Every time I pick up my phone I freak out a little. I’m in Alaska right now, which is four hours behind most agents, so every time I wake up, I’m afraid I have a rejection waiting for me from the good ole eastern standard time.
But a few days ago, I found an agent who said that he would respond to queries within twenty-four hours. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the death march of querying, most of the time it’s four to six weeks if you’re lucky. One day. One measly day. I had to do it.
So I sent him a query. Eighteen hours later, I received a rejection. A well worded, very polite rejection. I knew it was probably coming, and there it was. Even a little bit early.
So I sent him the other book. And you know what? He rejected it in sixteen hours.
This may sound slightly psychopathic, but it was amazing. So instantaneous. I wish I had another book to send him so we could continue our routine. I want to send him a thank you note for streamlining the rejection process to the point that it’s a joy to hear from him, but I think it might be a tiny bit creepy.
I know I should be grateful to be waiting on the dream agent. I know that the publishing industry is not a business that can be rushed.
But for forty-eight hours I had instant rejection gratification. And it was glorious.