Does 100 sales sound like, worth publishing an e-book? In my experience, no. That leaves the traditional publishers to publish it for me leaving the answer with the gatekeeper behind the editor’s desk.
I may get an editor like the gatekeeper from Ghostbusters, with an other worldly persona and is only pretending to be polite. I am not alone. The rounds in and out of the editor’s room, looking to sell a book, is a story that every writer tells…
The conclusion to the story to that the answers to this get published quagmire lie in the editor’s hands, who may be looking for answers himself, more personal and philosophical answers, as long as they are satisfying, in the deepest recesses of a living room in Manhattan. Who may even find the answer in my book as he pours over it on the couch.
The thing now is: What will he do with my book?
(Even though he has found the meaning to life.)
How should a writer write? This is a question that’s perturbed me when it’s come to writing fiction, because you are supposed to write in a literary manner, which means to sound the literary way. Be that literature or fiction, there’s a way of sounding right. In literature, even use elevated language, sophisticated prose, and put on the charm. In fiction, you got to sound like you are writing a blockbuster, chunky and punchy. To get published, you got to sound published. But this week I have been comfortable in my own skin as a creative writer and it’s not about trying to sound literary and tweak an expression a certain literary way.
Rejection is one of the themes of a writer’s life I suppose, although I haven’t talked to every writer, I suppose there are the exceptions. Is there a 100 per-cent acceptance rate, anybody?
A rejection occurs when someone submits their story, poem, article, etc, to a publisher, by post, email, or through an online portal, and days, weeks, or months later, the response is a rejection of the work. In the last week, I have had such a response, dare I admit. It does not hurt as much as it used to—when I was submitting to the literary journals.
I was a little surprised to be honest. I thought my devotion, for a church publication, should have been chosen. Should I keep on trying? After several rejections from the same publisher? And I have had TWO, a big two acceptances, from this publisher, which should be incentive enough.
For me, it has come down to motive and desire.
The pace that I write seems to be a matter of “self-image” dare I call it the New Age. In other words, I mean, that I see myself as I write; not New Age at all. I am seeing myself, quite unnicely I might add, in light of how fast or slow I write. If I write fast, I feel I have good “self-image”. If I write slow, I feel like I have a poor “self-image”. Of course, that is a generalization and I write at the pace that flows at the time and that depends on how much thinking I must do. Whether fast or slow, what does “self-image” matter when I am writing? And at the pace the suits me at the time. What does it really matter?
To say time is of the essence is a cliché that gets used over and over again, but having thought about it, it is something coming true in my life. In relating time management to what I do with movies, I was considering watching a number of different films, but realized that I only have a certain amount of time on earth, maybe twenty, thirty, forty years or so more, so I reckoned that it’s best to watch those films that won’t waste my time and I can write about with some meaning. I trusted the movies would not be time wasters and that I could cover a century of film (or whatever) by choosing what mattered, without crossing some of my no-go areas. Problem is that some of the films that are worth it, and may be no-go areas, are actually the ones worth seeing for their social worth.