Posted on November 7, 2024 by Aeryn Rudel
The reasons for a rejection are myriad and seemingly endless, but the more rejections you get, the better you become at reading the literary tea leaves and divining why the “not for us’s” and “we’re gonna pass’s” are clogging your inbox. In this series, I’ll go over some of the most common reasons, using my own work and rejections as examples, and maybe, just maybe, we can figure out why these editors aren’t blown away by my generational brilliance. 😊 Of course, all of this will be conjecture. You never really know why a story gets rejected unless the editor comes right out and tells you, but that’s so vanishingly rare that it might as well be mythological. (Well, except in this case, but it’s still pretty damn rare.)
Okay, first up is the one nobody wants to hear, least of all me, but it’s absolutely possible that you’re getting rejected because your work is simply not ready for publication. That doesn’t mean it will NEVER be ready, but you might need to work on your craft, or you might need to get some truly objective eyes on your work to bring it up to a publishable level.
But how can you tell through a rejection that your work’s not ready? Kind of a tough one because most editors are just going to send you the same form rejection they send everyone else, pros and amateurs alike. And as much as we might try, you can’t tell much from a form letter. That said, there’s a few ways, you might be able to tell. Let’s look at three of them.
So, what does one of those you’re not ready for publication rejections look like? I’ll show you. Here’s one I got for a story called “Rearview” back in 2005. The story had a solid premise, but my writing was, to be blunt, pretty amateurish at the time, and there was no way in hell that story was going to get published. Still, the editor took the time to tell me what was wrong with my story, and as much as it stung, it was very educational. Let’s take a look.
Dear Mr. Rudel,
I’m going to decline “Rearview” It’s not ready for publication.
1) You’ve used words incorrectly, and in redundance.
On the first page, Jacob is not “struggling to discern the distance.” He’s trying to estimate or gauge it. The result would not be a judgment, but an estimate or guess.
Stygian is capitalized. Refers to the River Styx. A monocular glow likely comes from a “single” headlight. Therefore, “single” is redundant.
“object” is vague…be more specific, in all instances in the story. Remember, the reader is going to fixate on this as the source of danger. He needs some details to hang onto.
“he might run afoul of” is unnecessary by implication.
2) The storyline is incomplete. Jacob flees Donna, reminisces of their relationship, is chased by a demon on PCP, and dies. There’s no story here. In a story, by definition, the protagonist changes in some way as a direct result of having experienced the events of the story…and this does not mean being consumed, unless the reason is clear, explicit, and serves a purpose.
In summary: do not overwrite your story. And adjust the storyline. Also, read more. There are lots of good horror short stories out there [we publish them in XXX, XXX, and XXX]. See what other writers are writing, and how they develop their stories.
Hope this helps.
As you can see, the editor pulled no punches here (I mean, that first line is about as brutal as it gets), but for the most part, they were spot on with their criticism. I was using words incorrectly and in redundance, though, to be fair, I might quibble with a few of the suggestions. For example, I think “struggling to discern the distance” is fine. Not great, but fine. The editor’s second point about the storyline, is, again, right on the money, and while I might disagree that a character MUST change in a significant way in EVERY story (especially in shorter pieces), what I had was a long vignette without much of throughline or a satisfying conclusion.
The editor’s last paragraph has maybe the best advice in the entire rejection. I was absolutely overwriting at this point, trying to sound like some half-assed H.P. Lovecraft and generally failing at it. I also needed to read more current fiction instead of just pulp authors from the twenties and thirties, whose styles are perfectly fine for yesteryear but don’t play well with modern fiction (even twenty years ago). As it would turn out, part of my growth as a writer was finding my own voice instead of trying to ape my favorite authors as I was doing here.
Now, some folks are going to read the rejection above as simply rude, and I get that. No one wants to hear these kinds of things about their work, but speaking for myself, this rejection, along with another very blunt, in-person conversation with a pro writer around the same time were painful watershed moments that propelled my writing forward. As an editor myself, I probably would have just sent a form rejection in response to a story like this. That’s not to say this editor was wrong in sending me this rejection, and as much as it hurt, I am thankful they did.
Have you ever got a “not ready for primetime” rejection? If so, and you feel like sharing, tell me about it in the comments.
Category: Rejection LettersTags: Aeryn Rudel, authors, rejection, Rejection Letters, Rejectomancy, Submissions, Writing, writing tips
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It still seems to me to be that editor’s opinion. How many stories have we read from all time periods where the protagonist is not changed at all? It sounds to me more like the editor didn’t really feel there was a cause and effect relationship between the story events, but I haven’t read the story.
I think I would take seriously what the editor said about specificity, but I don’t know that I’d get so hung up on the definitions of words. If the editor really liked the story, they’d take the half a second to capitalize the S in Stygian themself. They’d change “discern” to a word that made them feel better. I find it hard to imagine someone sitting there and saying “man, I love this story, but the guy doesn’t know the meaning of ‘discern,’ so I think I’m going to need to reject it.”
Lastly, with regard to overwriting, pick up the latest issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and read Nina Kiriki Hoffman’s story. It’s fantastic, truly beautiful, and most certainly, definitely overwritten. It oozes poetry.
I’d be curious to hear what another rejection for the same draft says.
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As for my rejections, I always find them a pain because they are extremely specific to the story in question. My only conclusion is that I don’t delve enough into the character’s history and inner life, so I’ve been working on that. But I honestly had to take a rejection to a Q&A with a professional author to reach that conclusion.
Oh, certainly, some of it is the editor’s opinion, and I’ll admit that the comments only really resonated with me a good year after this rejection. As far as overwriting, I think, in my case, it’s less about the complexity of the writing and more about me not developing my own voice. I was TRYING to sound like H.P. Lovecraft and other authors like him. I’d guess Nina Kiriki Hoffman absolutely has a style and voice that is all her own. (Need to go track that story down).
Thanks for the comment and for sharing your experience. 🙂