While perusing my blogroll this afternoon, I realized that until now I’d misspelled Dystel & Goderich as Dystel & Giderich. My humblest apologies for this mistake. Not to mention that I’m now on a first-name basis (and in a writer’s group) with someone who is represented by their company. Embarrassing? Yup.
I’d also like to take the opportunity to draw your attention to the newest addition in the roll — “Snapshots at St. Arbucks,” written by a very clever man with an endearing literary voice. (It wasn’t just his recent comment on my “Rejected 2.0″ post that convinced me I should add him to my list; really, I’ve read his work and I like it a lot. And you should read it too, dammit. Period.)
Speaking of which, I’d like to invite the opinions of fellow writers on the topic of rejection. After receiving numerous rejections for a manuscript, there is always the compulsion (for me) to fret over “what is wrong with it” and seek to re-re-polish/edit/rewrite the hell out of it. But lately I’ve found that I’m more likely to continue with current projects, ignoring the old, turning my back on those that are still floating out there aimlessly from agent to agent or publisher to publisher. I’d like to know what approach other writers take to this process. Do you dance the dance?, or do you simply shrug and say, “To hell with them — I know it’s good, I spent three years relearning how good it is. I’m just going to keep on writing new stuff till I luck out.” What I guess I’m asking is, Is it wrong to believe that you’ve done the best that you can if no one ever turns to you and says, “I’d like to publish you”?
I certainly don’t think so, but how about you?
