Blogger: Rachelle Gardner
“When am I going to stop feeling so bad about rejecting people?”
My husband muted the football game. “What?”
“When am I going to get a thicker skin? When is it going to get easier for me to tell people no?”
Okay, I probably should’ve waited until half-time. But I’d just written a rejection letter that was painful and it was bothering me. My compassion for writers makes saying “no” difficult.
Remember when parents used to say “this hurts me more than it hurts you” before delivering a punishment? Well, I can’t say it hurts me more than the writer. But it does feel bad.
Anyway, hubby had to sit through my agonizing and analyzing. “I hate ruining someone’s day. And right now, with the holiday coming… I don’t like to ruin someone’s holiday.”
First he told me to get over myself, I’m not so important that I can take credit for ruining someone’s holiday. Fair enough. Then he said, “You know, every bit of MY job is about someone else having a bad day.” (He’s a firefighter/EMT.) “When I show up,” he said, “it’s because they’re having a really bad day.”
Mm hmm. And?
“I don’t cause their bad day,” he went on. “I’m just there for it. I’m there to help.” True. “And YOU don’t cause a writer to have a bad day, either. You’re just the messenger, delivering some hard truth. And you’re there to help, too. Sometimes you help by telling them a truth they need to hear. And other times you’ll help by improving their manuscript or by selling their book to a publisher. You don’t cause their good days or their bad days. You’re there to help. Just like me.”
Huh. Wisdom from the cute guy on the couch. I have to admit, it made me feel better.
So if you receive a rejection letter from an agent, don’t imagine them sitting at their computer with an evil grin and a high pitched laugh, hissing maniacally, “Tee-hee-hee… got rid of another one!”
We don’t relish the rejections. Just part of the job.
Tell us about a rejection experience that was particularly hard for you. How did you deal with it?
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I bet its hard. I once seconded my son in an air-gun shooting competition. Despite the option to shoot into a test frame before settling into his round, he went straight into the live shoot. All his shots were neatly grouped left of target, but the test shots would have told him that he had a left bias, prompting some adjustment. Without feedback, lets face it we are never going to hit much. Oh we can abide by our own standard by moving the target a bit left, but sooner or later we must step outside and embrace an objective standard. The sooner we correct, the further we will go, because a small error at the outset amplifies to a mile off course with time. Golf coaches know that correcting a bad habit is harder than starting with a greenhorn. Feedback, for all its honesty, is a part of life. Whether its the brutal honesty of the mirror, the response of an audience, the cutting tongue of the critic or the gentle push-back of an agent, that is life. Truth is, whether you do it or leave it to the system to do it later, with less empathy, it will be done, so not doing what needs to be done would be a cop-out. That said, like a doctor bringing bad news to a patient, your feeling it so strongly counts for much – it lets us down more gently, leaves room for adjustment and correction, and preserves hope for the future.
Applying for a job. And not getting it.
“I’m not good enough.”
“They didn’t like me.”
“They liked someone else more.”
“Maybe they hired someone they already knew.”
“I presented the real me. If they don’t want the real me, I don’t want them”
“God has something else for me.”
Yep, Shirlee, we’ve seen it all … it should give us a rhino’s hide. I still feel it and still hate it, but only a fool would keep bashing his head against the wall doing the same thing. We must learn from our headaches.
Rejection is always a hard one. When I was young, I internalized rejection by peers, and it impacted my view of the world and how the world viewed me.
*An adult rejection would have been when I applied for a teaching job I thought I would get, and then they hired someone else. After getting over the sting of that, I moved on. I needed a job, so there was good incentive to lay the rejection aside and keep moving on.
*Now, I let myself feel the sting, but I don’t stay in that place. You’ve got to move forward, with prayer, and a good dose of encouragement from friends.
Jeanne, your words are so sweet. I think that sting only serves to help our writing. How could we write from places of despair, if we hadn’t felt it? We put that pain to good use. Beautiful, Jeanne.
I think you’re right, Shelli. Facing the emotions that rejection evokes does cause us to deal with them, and helps us to tap into them as writers.
Jeanne, you’ve written such heartfelt descriptions of the rejection you faced in childhood, both here and on your blog. I can only say this – you are loved and cherished by more people than you know. When I go to meet God, I will hold your friendship close to my heart, and I will tell him of you, my wonderful friend.
* And though He knows it all, He will listen with rapt attention, and behind Him the ranks of His angels will listen too, handkerchiefs of mystic samite poised to wipe tears from their eyes.
Andrew, when you do go to Heaven will somebody let us know here? We all love you and consider you part of our sort-of-family.
Janet, yes – absolutely. The word will be passed. And perhaps God will employ me then as…wait for it…a ghostwriter.
Such heartfelt words, Andrew.
Thank you, Andrew. Your friendship and encouragement have been a balm during some of those hard times.
Well said! I think you hit it on the head, that process of feeling the sting then letting it pass.
Yes, Teresa. And, as with many things, it’s easier said than done. 🙂 We have to make the choice to not be overcome by the sting, and to move on, right? 🙂
There were times I had to reject people – and dogs – and they died. I had to make the decision as to whether the risk in getting them to safety was viable, given that I, or at least my skill and experience, was a resource that could not be carelessly expended.
* I grew a thick skin, but only toward myself. I trained harder, studied the oppo harder, so I could push things further. Operational readiness and competence weren’t a big part of my life – they were the ONLY thing in life.
* Because I can still see their faces. The ones I left behind.
Obviously, the contexts in which people and animals were brought to safety were very different. So too were the methods and tools used, and also the intensity of action.
* Well, usually.
None of us can possibly comprehend what you did to get those dogs and/or people out, or the price you paid when you could not save them. I have a very vague idea, only because I’m privileged to know you and Barbara so well.
Yes, you can still see the faces of those you couldn’t save. But can you hear the laughter, the joy, and the every day sounds of all those you saved? I am certain that all over the world, there are people taking their lives one very safe step at a time because you showed up, armed and extremely dangerous, smiled and said “Come with me, let’s get out of here.”
Andrew, there are many people for whom you were Normandy. Don’t forget that. Ever.
Thank you, Jennifer; it is something I try to keep in the forefront of my mind, because it’s what’s made my life worthwhile.
* The dogs around me now are emblematic of this; when I can’t sleep, which is often, these days, I listen to the sound of their breathing. Just that; they are safe and warm and happy, among friends, loved. And yes, around the world, there are people who remember fear, and tears, and deliverance. Violence does not always beget violence; it can be the midwife to compassion and love…and joy.
* It’s been a good life, one that I am honoured to have been given.
Andrew, I can only imagine the difficulty of those sorts of decisions. And, it’s pretty cool that you still are a rescuer, to your dogs, providing them with safety so they can rest and sleep and live in security.
Thanks, Jeanne. In truth, they give back so very much! And when I was still able to speak coherently, they listened to read-alouds of my WIPs. (It now hurts too much to talk, so speech is halting and slow, and generally avoided. Barbara and I generally communicate by email and notes.)
Actually, rejection letters have never bothered me. Once in a while the reasons for the rejection are vague and thus the letter isn’t particularly illuminating, but at least you know the agent or editor put eyes on your piece for a little while, that it wasn’t lost in spam or an over-stuffed inbox. What’s much harder is the “non-response” rejection.
So, you ask “Tell us about a rejection experience that was particularly hard for you.” That was when I was an active member of an agent’s blog community for close to three years. I was working on novels and had some close to ready during this time. I even exchanged a couple of e-mails with the agent about a topic. Then the agent posted new “what I’m looking for” guidelines that put the novel I was about to submit outside their guidelines. So I posted asking for a clarification. The agent actually modified the guidelines (the first wording apparently not accurately conveying what the agent was looking for) in a way such that my novel now conformed. I submitted and waited. Sixty days was the stated “If you don’t hear from me…” time. I quit counting at 71 days. I had thought that my participation in the blog would at least have earned a form rejection, but not so.
How did I deal with it? The scales falling from my eyes and me finally seeing how the industry is structured, I’ve never submitted anything since (except one resulting from a conference contact).
I think the indifference stuff gets me most, as one in which within 48 hours, coldly dismissed, with no explanation, but nice knowing you, hope you have a good life, yada yada. It gives me a sense of a frigid, disinterested and unfeeling soul, hardly complementary to my spiritual intensity. I quickly realized that was probably not the kind of partner I needed anyway, so moved on. Writing is not a good-bed fellow for a cold fish. I am grateful for a warm-blooded agent and heartened that they feel as we feel, even if for different reasons.
Never quit, David. You have a powerful voice and a vital, virile presence. The world needs your words and your thoughts. I look forward to your comments here; you are a literary force that will one day make the world stand amazed.
One thing I do believe is that no rejection, no loss is forever. God picks up the shards and splinters of our broken, blasted, and abandoned dreams, for they are important to Him…and He meticulously fashions them into what they were meant to be, reflections of His love, and the true essence of our hearts. And when we arrive in His presence, He will, with barely disguised glee, present us with these marvels which we thought lost.
You just encapsulated a conversation I had with a friend yesterday about our heart’s desires which, even after much seeking of the Lord and hoping and patience, don’t come to pass as we expected they would. And did so with breathtakingly beautiful language. Andrew, I’m about to turn in copy edits for the book in which you inadvertently wrote a few lines here in a comment some months back. I’m so thrilled to say your words, graciously lended, have made it through all the editing rounds and will appear in the finished book. The Lord speaks through you to my heart and so many others, so often here. Thank you for taking the time and energy and anything else it costs you to participate and be part of this community.
Lori, thank you! I was and am so honoured to have you chose to include my words…and doing a SnOoPyDaNcE (well, in spirit) that they made it through the edits!
Oh, that is so sweet. 🙂
Well said Drew, thanks
Thank you, Pete…and thanks, always, for your encouragement and friendship. The insights you’ve given in your comments (and on your blog) have changed my life and heart.
This must be my favorite post of yours, Rachelle. Thank you. I hate to admit it, but just the word “rejection” brings instant tears. I faced it in my youth … trying so hard to please … until I realized that the only one I’d ever be able to please was God. He loved me unconditionally. That was a blessed realization. I face it today, and it leads me to grab hold of my Savior with a tighter grip. And the grip on His end tightens, too. I always remember our Savior’s rejection, and how He chose to love through it. He didn’t have to perfect Himself, like we often feel the need to do, He was already perfect, but He loved.
God ain’t the only one who loves you, Shelli. So do we.
🙂 I know you do. Thank you.
Sometimes, I am at a complete loss for words
This is one of those times.
I wish everyone could meet you in person. Then they’d know the personification of “sweetness and steel”. You’re SO sweet and so kind, and so much fun, yet your nerves are pure steel.
God has blessed me with many gifts, you are one of them.
(Unless we’re playing Scrabble…then bummer for you, I just scored a 150 point word…)
Jennifer, now it’s my turn to have words fail me. Your friendship has meant more to me than you can possibly know.
Oh my goodness … you made me cry, Jennifer. You are talking to me, right?! 🙂 Thank you, sweet girl. You are such a blessing to me, too. And the only person I know who could manage to spell “rejection” in Scrabble! 🙂 “Sweetness and steel” … that’s going in my encouragement file. 🙂
Yes, darlin;. I am.
And don’t worry, I’ll be back someday to cream you again.
What sweet words, Jennifer. I’ve not been part of this community nearly as long as several of you, but I have been so blessed by the connections witnessed and made through it. You honor Andrew with your words. 🙂 Wish I could meet you in person, too, Andrew. You’ve been such an encourager to me.
Shelli, it seems like when we come to the understanding that God is already pleased with us we can walk with a bit more confidence, even when we, or something we’ve created, do face rejection, we know we’re already enough for Jesus, right?
If it makes you feel better, I’m a writer who would rather have my bad news quickly. It’s the wait that is so painful to me. So remember that when you have to deliver bad news, sometimes you are helping the writer to move on, even during the holidays. Thank you for having such a kind heart.
I’m with you, Suzy. Rip off that band-aid.
I have dealt with a lot of rejection, too. I think I like myself better because of it. There is nothing “fluffy” about me, nothing frivolous. When I grew up, nobody put a sparkly tiara on my head and called me a princess. And I am thankful for that now.
I feel sorry for those little girls who are called princesses by their parents. I would rather be called “hard working”, “smart”, “kind”.
Well, this has gone deep today, hasn’t it?
I love this community. It’s like sitting around a campfire, staring into the flames. One day we discuss covers, another day we discuss passive grammar, and another we bare our broken hearts.
One rejection I experienced 50 years ago. It still resonates deep within me. “Not being enough” is something I fight against. I have a dead-beat biological…person…to thank for that. But i look at my life, the lives of my mom and the man who married her and asked to be my daddy, and I know God’s hand was there all along.
Rejection and redemption are the core themes of my writing, and I don’t have to do any research for the repercussions of those experiences. Nope. That part comes without leaving the house.
As for writerly rejections? The toughest rejection blossomed into the sweetest day of my writing life. On September 3rd, 2013, the agent I wanted BADLY, said ‘no’. 12 days later, she offered representation.
In person!!!
Yes, I did the Dance of the Whole Package of Kleenex.
Which is why I always say “at any conference you attend, please ensure you’re wearing waterproof mascara”.
We’ve been given a task. But we’re not refined by bubble baths and spa days. We’re refined by fire. Flames hurt, but when the dross blows away, ohhhh, the gold is beautiful.
Jennifer, I absolutely agree with your assessment of this community.
And, I love your line: “…we’re not refined by bubble baths and spa days. We’re refined by fire. Flames hurt, but when the dross blows away, ohhhh, the gold is beautiful.” I’m going to quote you somewhere, if you’re OK with that. 🙂
Wow, I’m honoured!! Quote at will.
Beautiful, Jennifer. And yes, the refining HURTS. Your story, and your wisdom, speak of God’s truth and love. 🙂
I remember it well. It was before the days when an agent was a curator for publishers. I was struggling to get a foothold in writing fiction when an editor sent me a message that my novel was good, but needed work. If I’d get help from an independent editor (one he recommended), he would most likely give me a two-book contract. I spent a lot of money with this independent editor (about one dollar per comma he removed, I think), then proudly sent the resultant work to the pub house editor. He declined to accept it. That rejection not only hurt, it opened my eyes.
The editor still works at that fairly well-known Christian publisher. The independent editor still teaches and works in the field of writing. The good news is that I persevered, and my ninth novel was published by a well-known publisher a few weeks back.
I know that hurt, Richard. But how encouraging you are … keep persevering.
Yours is such an inspirational story, Richard!
Ugh, rejection. Call me perverse, but I have my favorite rejection letter hanging on the bulletin board in my office. Why? One, probably because so few places send official rejections, leaving writers wondering and second guessing. Figure I might as well collect those I do get. 😉 Two, the editor had a knack for being encouraging while being honest. And three, it motivates me to do better. I find honest rejection helps a person’s writing every time. No writer has a skin so thick she enjoys rejections, but every writer, while being uncomfortable with the process, enjoys growth, right?
When I told my college roommate I wanted to be a writer she said, “Show me your rejection slips. You’re not really a writer unless you get some of those.” I agree that rejection slips show we’re professionals and I think it’s rude that lots of publications and houses don’t bother to send them, even as e-mail messages, anymore.
No wonder you married this guy, Rachelle. Good call. Anyway, I’ve learned that I need to give myself TIME before I respond/react/reply/repay … to a rejection. Time might not heal the wound, but it definitely takes the edge of my sharp words and helps re-align my perspective. (Just ask my agent.)
I appreciate this perspective a lot. I am fairly new at the submissions game, but have written quite a few books in order to finally get one that I though was worth submitting. I got the silent treatment by all but one agent, who sent me a very nice rejection letter – which I kept :). It’s hard to know if its worth continuing when you get no feedback. It’s easy to wonder if you have what it takes (obviously not yet, but will I? Writing takes time away from other things you could be doing. I guess one kick at the can likely isn’t enough to hang up the hat though, right?
I have a story of rejection; not my own, so would you bear with me?
* Nine years ago Barbara and I were in a park in Lubbock, on July 3, when I saw what looked like a pile of rags in the waste ground. But the rags moved, and Barbara said, “That’s a dog.”
* It was; a Pit Bull, a little girl, terribly thin, bleeding, too weak to rise. We picked her up and took her to our vet, with the sad thought that all he could do was ease her passing. She had been dumped in that field, with a broken hip and a dead puppy inside her. Rejected, and left to die.
* But she did not die. On July 5 she met us in the vet’s exercise yard, shaky, but bravely wagging the tail I thought would wag no more.
* And now she is the face of my blog, Sylvia. She has developed into a warmhearted (and sometimes hard-headed) service dog, who props me up when I am being sick on the bathroom floor, and who sits in my lap to make sure I do not overextend myself. She hid my tools when she felt I was too ill to work, and sleeps with a paw on my chest to ensure that I am still breathing.
* One day, I was NOT breathing, and she leapt up and down on my chest, shouting furiously, until I once again drew breath. I owe her my life.
* The stone rejected has become the foundation-stone of Love, and Hope, and Courage.
That’s beautiful, Andrew.
Thanks, Shelli. Syl remembers her past, I think, and she enjoys every minute of her present.
Oh, Andrew, I’m so glad to know this story. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Teresa. It’s a story that is never far from my mind and heart.
Amazing – and accurate – depiction of redemptive love.
It is that, Davalynn. Thank you.
Okay, rejection does sting. But I just look at it as a way of weeding through the list until the right agent comes along….someone who is a good fit for me. How’s that for looking at the bright side?! Love that you are compassionate. Keep it up…
Hmmm…I once sent a proposal to a very nice agent and got back a very nice rejection letter. About three months later, I got another very nice rejection letter from her. At first I got all excited. “What if she changed her mind!” Then I understood that she must have read my query twice and been certain both times that my story was not for her. I felt kind of bad because this agent had to read my query and reject me twice and I knew that she was busy. Maybe next time, right? But as hard as the rejections are and as much chocolate as I have snorked down in my attempts to rise out of the doldrums, I understand that it is a long shot. That finding that perfect match between a publishing pro and my story is difficult. I do not rage at the rejecting agent or think they are evil, I’m just sad that it wasn’t true love. Tomorrow is another day after all and I’ve gotten some great encouragement in little notes and things from agents as well. Things that made me better and helped me keep going.
I was rejected by an agent with your agency three years ago, but she also gave me valuable constructive feedback and asked me questions that helped me realize I still had work to do. I felt grateful.
First of all, thanks to you and the other Books and Such agents for approaching your job from a place of compassion and kindness. It makes any rejection a bit more palatable when it’s clear the decision was made carefully and thoughtfully.
This isn’t a flat out rejection, but it was very hard for me to read through the ACFW First Impressions Contest notes from judges. I didn’t have any problem when I found out I wasn’t a finalist. But hearing the concrete reasons WHY I wasn’t a finalist stung. The best way for me to deal with it is to read it, take a deep breath, put it aside and let myself feel whatever I’m feeling, then go back to it when I’m ready to constructively consider the feedback and get better at my craft. It’s a slippery slope, but part of life. If we don’t take rejections as opportunities for growth or learning, then that’s when we’ve wasted everyone’s time — our own and the person who’s done the rejecting.
That constructive criticism helps and hurts so much, Teresa. Yeah, it stings at first. But then … it makes you and your work so much better. I feel it has me, anyway. 🙂 And when you hear best-selling authors say that their work comes back covered in red mark-ups … well, it’s just encouraging. It’s not just me. 🙂
Teresa, you have what I would call a healthy way of dealing with writer rejection. Feel the pain, look for the helpful comments, use them and grow in your skills. I look forward to reading your words one day. 🙂
Here’s my thought on receiving rejection letters.
If it’s for an unsolicited query from me, I appreciate at least knowing that the agent is passing. I understand they’re busy. I understand they have hundreds of queries a day. I don’t expect them to analyze and critique my work. I’m sure that they can tell with the quickest of reads if my story is for them or not. A simple one word email of “nope” would be fine. I’m not offended, and at least I know to move on from that query.
However, when they’ve responded to the query and a full manuscript has been requested and sent, particularly when they request exclusive. . .then it would really be nice to get something back rather than a form letter.
I’m sure all the rejection isn’t easy for agents either. And they are on the receiving end of plenty of rejection themselves once they sign an author and start trying to sell.
Rejection is hard no matter what side of it you are on. I will say that I recently got a rejection letter from an agent – it was the shortest, most uplifting letter I have received to date. Only three sentences but filled with encouragement and not nearly as painful as the rest. No doubt work goes into mastering a query but this agent proved a rejection can be mastered as well.
I don’t view rejections as something horrible. I view rejections as an opportunity to take another look at my story, especially the first chapter, to see if it’s possible to improve what I’ve written and I usually can. That first chapter is what agents see first and if it doesn’t grab their attention the fact that the rest of the book is amazing doesn’t matter. If I can’t grab an agent’s attention with my first chapter, chances are I’m not going to grab my reader’s attention either. It might sound weird but I view rejection letters as part of the teamwork that makes my work even better and gives me reason to strive for greatness.
This is absolutely beautiful! Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Love that you’re a literary agent and Hubby is a firefighter/EMT!! What a great couple ??❤️
The peroxide stings when you pour it on a wound, but it sure takes care of the microbes. When I entered my finished novels in the Genesis contest last year, I learned I was writing in the archaic omniscient narrator POV and committing the unforgivable sin of “tell-not-show.” Without all the highly detailed critical comments from those precious judges, I might never have known why what I wrote would never make it through an agent’s gate. I’m rewriting everything in the “modern” style before submitting to agents, and I think the novels are much better because of it. I thank God for those “rejections” that have forced my game to the next level.
Telling someone the reason something is not good enough is a true gift. I’ve always disliked the game of “bring me a rock” followed by “wrong rock” with no info on what made the rock wrong. It’s even worse when they just toss the rock away without even telling you. Sending even a boilerplate rejection e-mail devoid of informative content is better than treating a submission as if it never even existed. All it takes is entering the e-mail address into an autosender, and it’s done.
The true opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s apathy. I appreciate all the folks at Books & Such for caring about those of us who read this blog even when we aren’t their clients.
Last week I submitted an application to speak at a High School in upstate NY. This morning I received an email that my application was declined. Felt down for awhile considering that I believed I was exactly what they were looking for. Then I realize that I needed to practice what I preach to my audience….Walk, Fall, Get up, Repeat. ?
Rejection comes in two varieties: Fair and Unfair. Those that are fair are learning experiences. I was once told by an agent (who tried, but failed to get my first novel published) that I was too verbose and used too many adverbs. That was a fair rejection, so I learned two things: First, when I use an adverb, I’ve chosen the wrong verb. The second was that editing a novel is necessary, so I learned that writing a novel is just the first step in completing it. Editing requires the use of a butcher knife in some passages and a scalpel in others.
The unfair variety is perhaps the more common, and we just have to get over it. To deal with unfair rejection, I think of the life of the van Gogh brothers: Vincent and Theo. Vincent never sold a painting except to brother Theo, who sustained him throughout his life until Vincent’s death. Theo died a short time later, and left all of his brother’s unsold paintings to his widow. The old gal made a fortune. That, my fellow writers, is the epitome of unfair rejection. Don’t know about you guys, but my unfair rejections don’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to those of Vincent and Theo.
In my day job I also need to sometimes deliver bad news to writers, telling them I won’t be publishing their submission. It’s never easy, but I have found that the best way is to simply say “no thank you.” Anything else just causes problems – for me and them.
I always found it wasn’t the rejection that made things difficult. It was the ‘standard rejection reply’ I kept receiving. Honestly, it’s like every agent photocopies the same one. As a writer, you want to know WHY the story is being rejected so you can perhaps work on improving in that deficiency, so it’s the wondering that sets your teeth on edge.
Fortunately, I don’t consider rejection as the end of the world. All in a day’s work, and it’s not personal. No grind, no shine, as the saying goes.
I wrote my first book at age 22. It was rejected 36 times. And then accepted! I went on to have a stretch of 18 books with no rejections! All were accepted by the first place they were sent, or by 4 houses at a time, or more! I got gigantic advances! And got on network TV shows and big cable shows – ABC, NBC, CNN, CNBC! Regis! Matt Lauer! And on and on. Oh, yeah, and NPR! It was amazing. And deeply gratifying. Then I wrote a book that I deeply loved. And it was rejected. Called elegant and wonderful and passed over. 42 times. Are there that many publishers? One day it too will see the light. Meanwhile, the best book I’ve ever written, no close second, no agent has wanted to represent – it was too different, so it couldn’t even get submitted for rejection by a publisher! Agent after agent for two years didn’t understand it or like it. I said, “Enough.” And self published. And in the early months of its existence, every group I speak to buys it in quantity. People write me moving letters about it. Fathers give it to sons. Mothers to daughters and sons and cousins and friends. And it’s launched my greatest publishing experience ever. On the back of no. So authors, keep doing your thing! You may or may not find an agent or traditional publisher who “gets you.” But that doesn’t mean you can’t do great good in the world through your work.
Thanks Rachelle, I got your rejection letter. What really bummed me out though was that the 49ers keep losing! Even half-time doesn’t help. Hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas and holiday season. 🙂