the perfect literary agent rejection letter

As I wrote previously, the standard of rejection form letters from literary agencies is pathetic. I am not suggesting that they go to the trouble of constructing detailed critiques of rejected work, nor even that they bother with (some would say the common courtesy of) putting the author's name at the top of the letter and signing at the end.

However, if you're going to construct a form letter, why not spend more than thirty seconds and actually do it properly? The letter given below was written by me, this morning, in about ten minutes. It is friendly, helpful, deals with every type of author, fits on one side of A4 and does not encourage the rejected author to attempt to embark on a dialogue with the rejecting agency.

I offer this letter, waiving all my intellectual property rights, to any agency that wishes to use it. The single condition of waiving my rights is that no agency ever sends my own letter to me - whether you want to send a personal reply or a different rejection form letter is entirely up to you.

***

Thank you for sending us your work to read and consider. Unfortunately, we do not feel that we can represent you.

Please bear in mind that this is the opinion of one agency and should not discourage you! There is a finite number of authors that we can properly represent. We can only take on a new author rarely and when we have a strong feeling that the writing is sufficiently fresh, exciting and likely to sell. We must believe we can convince a publisher to take the risk of editing, designing, printing and advertising your book. If we don't truly love the work, it makes the job of convincing others much harder.

Clearly you should put your best foot forward and move on. Here is our advice, most obvious ideas first:

• Contact other agencies (always remembering to find out their submission criteria before contacting them and never wasting your time writing to agencies who are not taking on new authors.)
  
  
• Contact other authors. Many authors have used authonomy.com or writing.com to discuss each other's work in a friendly and supportive environment.
  
  
• Get professional advice. The Literary Consultancy (literaryconsultancy.co.uk) or Writers' Services (writersservices.co.uk) both sell editorial advice.
  
  
• Find your own readers. Are you writing for children? If so, contact local schools and offer to read from your work and to answer questions on writing. Are you writing for adults? Contact reading groups and ask if they would be interested in reading your work – exchange their feedback for your presence at their meetings. For children or adult fiction, try asking bookshop staff if they could stock your book – offer to read, take questions, sign copies.
  
  
• Self-publish. Either lulu.com or createspace.com offer quick and easy self-publishing services. This does not rule out being published by a mainstream publishing house at a later date but would enable you to offer copies to schools/reading groups/bookshops.

Look again at your work. Be brutal – is it really the best writing you are capable of? Are there sentences, paragraphs or even whole chapters where you just thought that it would do? If so, erase them and rewrite them. Don't be precious – they are only words, you are not murdering your own children.

Are you reluctant to read to schools/reading groups/bookshops? If so, why? Do you not feel that your work is good enough? If you are not sufficiently proud to read it aloud to an audience, why do you think anyone should buy a copy in a shop and why do you think an agent would want to represent you and your work?

If you have read all of the above and are still determined then the best of luck to you. Feel free to write to us if you become a major success and we will congratulate you without a hint of sour grapes. But be prepared for a long, dispiriting and difficult slog with no guarantees and a good chance of a pitiful income even if your books make it to the shelves of the shops. You must throw yourself into this project with clear knowledge of the way the industry works, with thick skin to handle rejection and with utter faith in the quality of the work you are producing. If you cannot do all of that, be pleased that you have written a book but it is now time to find another career.

(Where we mention websites, they are examples of companies some authors use. We are not recommending or endorsing any organisations.)

***

Over to you - feel free to pick it apart but I defy anyone to deny that it's dramatically better than the woefully rubbish examples of real rejection letters I gave previously.

P.S. I have sent a copy of this letter to my most recent rejecters - those being the company that sent two terse sentences on a 'with compliments' slip and the company that sent the bad news on a sticker placed almost straight on a small piece of green cardboard. It wasn't even a nice shade of green.

I fully expect to hear nothing from either of them - I certainly don't expect them to start using the letter. However, if I hear anything back then you, dear readers, will be amongst the first to know.

replies and other matters

About three weeks ago, I sent samples of my work to three literary agencies. Coincidentally (unless they use the same reader?), I have received two responses in quick succession.

Now, I am not complaining about their turning me down. I know that successful agents have fairly full lists and are looking for something they feel to be outstanding. If they don't think that's me and my work then fair enough.

I am also not complaining about a lack of critique of my work - how could they possibly have the time, given the height of the pile of manuscripts from aspiring authors?

However, given that they're going to send a form letter in response, couldn't they maybe do slightly better than this:

"Thank you for your submission. Unfortunately, we do not feel confident that we could sell your work effectively and will not be offering to represent your material. Thank you for your interest in (agency-name) and best of luck placing your work elsewhere."

Am I being unreasonable in suggesting that this is a bit rubbish? They don't owe me anything personal but surely, when writing the standard rejection slip, it could have been less cold?

The other, while still a rejection and while still impersonal, at least manages to sound friendly:

"Thank you for your recent email and the material which we have now looked at. As a small agency we take on very few of the many writers who approach us each year and, having considered your work, we do not feel we can effectively represent you.

We trust you will understand that the sheer volume of submissions to this office unfortunately prevents us from providing you with a more detailed and personal response.

May we take this opportunity to wish you success with another agent or publisher."

Anyone care to comment? Am I expecting too much from these people? As I said, I'm not asking for personal comments, or for a review of my work but maybe something that's not icy cold. After all, there's no pretty way to send a rejection but it is possible to put soft cushions around it.

why the rich should pay proper tax - in terms they might understand

So very much has already been written about the tax avoiders, not just Philip Green, Boots and Barclays but the charmers who earn 'only' around £200,000 and think it's just NOT FAIR that they have to pay so much tax - the people who'd rather pay a little to a smart accountant and a bit to a tax lawyer than the full whack to the inland revenue.

David Mitchell pretty much nailed the point here. To very briefly summarise - why should anyone pay any more tax than they have to? The averagely paid don't voluntarily stump up extra money for the taxman so why should the rich be expected to do so? As he correctly points out, the fault lies entirely with the government for providing these loopholes. The argument that they do so in stupidity and are amazed to find the loopholes exist doesn't entirely hold water because the obvious rejoinder would be to enquire why they don't just close them. Er, could it be because they don't want to?

As already mentioned on this blog, I recently visited an excellent exhibition about the early years of the band Queen (it's only on for another three days (including today), so you've got till Saturday 12 March to visit - more information here).

Around the time of their third album, the band members noticed that they were still being paid £60 per week, Freddie was being told he couldn't have a piano (but that they could rent him one) and Roger was being asked to stop hitting the drums so hard that he was breaking the drumsticks because replacing them, apparently, was an unbearable expense. They certainly wouldn't have stumped up to buy Brian a new fireplace. The managers of the record company were simultaneously doing things like buying their third Rolls Royce or installing more swimming pools in their homes. The penny dropped (or rather, the pennies weren't dropping, ha ha) and the band began a lengthy process of extracting themselves from this exploitative situation.

(A few of the details above may be incorrect - I'm not trying to remember the definitive record, just the key ideas.)

Now, in principle, this is not a terrible approach to business. Record companies invest in a large number of musicians and, while some bring in untold fortunes, most pootle along earning little (or maybe nothing) until the company loses interest and drops them. Depending on the ratio of money-minded managers to artistically-minded managers, this may take a while or may happen quickly. Either way, there must be some cross-subsidy going on here - the successful bands must expect to pay out a (fair) percentage of their megabucks to the company so that it can continue to take risks on new acts. After all, there are probably bands as talented as Queen who never earned very much at all due to bad luck, or bad timing. Queen themselves had a major setback when Brian May was struck down with illness on their first American tour - I imagine many bands would not have recovered (artistically or financially even if medically) from something like that. It was only the continued financial help from the record company which took them to a place from which they could conquer the world.

Clearly I'm not condoning the supertax that Trident Records continued to levy far beyond the point of reason but what would happen if Queen had soaked up the starter capital from Trident while struggling and then, as soon as the money started pouring in, had refused to pay anything more to Trident and employed fancypants lawyers to make sure of this? I suspect that Trident wouldn't have lasted and, if such practice had been common, they would have been killed off long before they started working with Queen in 1971.

And yet that is how the super-rich behave with regard to taxation in this country. Consider the United Kingdom to be a massive venture-capital organisation. The country puts up the money for each and every one of us - it takes the colossal financial risk of education, health-care, roads, telecoms, airports, railways, utilities, etc, etc for each and every one of us.

A country can't act like a record company and simply drop the people who aren't going to bring in massive profits - it has to look after us from cradle to grave. And part of the social contract is that the rich pay their taxes properly - they subsidise everyone else - that's how they pay back the huge investment that was made in them and how they ensure that future generations can also benefit from a similar investment.

How long would venture-capital funds last if the successful businesses could simply run away and hide in a foreign country, continue to pull in large sums of money but refuse to hand over the agreed percentage? How long can nations function in any meaningful sense if they keep providing hiding places where the rich stash their money and then acting like they can't see it?

David Mitchell is right - the law needs to change - but, for this to happen, there must be the political appetite for it. Clearly, there is overwhelming public appetite for it - but governments don't care what the public think. There is only one way to change the situation and that is for the general public to be able to hide their money the way that the super-rich can enjoy.

I know very little about tax law, tax shelters, holding companies and all those other funny words rattled out on the news and in conspiracy theory films. However, somewhere out there is someone who could explain how the little people can shirk their taxes like the big boys. (The next sentence is me making it up as I go along.) Perhaps we need to establish an off-shore umbrella holding company which can employ millions of ordinary Brits and then subcontract their services to their regular employers, charging their usual salary but siphoning it through a tax efficient shell company before remunerating its theoretical employees in dividend payments. Perhaps we don't.

However we do it, once the little people are doing what the big people are doing, a change will have to come. Political appetite will not change by the public shouting in the street - not while the corporations are lobbying governments about how their employees couldn't be expected to get out of bed in the morning if they only earn 60% of a fortune instead of all of it. Political appetite will change when the tax gathered by the inland revenue slumps and no one is breaking the law.

Pros: Massive, legal protest. Everyone saves a few quid on their tax bill for a while. Law change to properly close many tax loopholes.

Cons: Country may go bankrupt - but with any luck the government wouldn't attempt to butch it out but would make the necessary changes quickly, thereby preventing anarchy and finishing with a substantial increase in funds to the exchequer.

Over to the experts - come on people - let's make this happen.

Brian May's fireplace guitar

Anyone currently in London should immediately make their way to the old Truman Brewery (near Spitalfields Market (near Liverpool Street Station)) to see the (free) exhibition on the early days of Queen (the band, not the monarch). Of course, when I say 'immediately', that only applies if it's during a time when they've got the doors open. See here for information on when that's likely to be. Oh, and you've only got until Saturday 12 March before it ends.

Allegedly it's going to Germany and Japan, although I have no information (or interest in finding out, frankly) whereabouts or when. Yes, I know they're both reasonably large countries. And great car makers too.

I was particularly struck by the mock-up of a fireplace, presumably representing the one butchered by Brian May to make his guitar. Now, the Wikipedia-reading part of me knows that he used the wooden mantel from a fireplace that a family friend was throwing out - but that knowledge doesn't stop the silly-joke-making part of me thinking he just picked the first abandoned fireplace he found and was lucky it was made of wood. I then had a hilarious image of him staggering around the stage with a marble-bodied guitar.

Supposing you had a marble-bodied guitar (or any other stone, for that matter) - if you tried that trick of using the strap to flip it over onto your back (for that wandering minstrel look), would it shatter your spine or garotte you? Or maybe both? Answers welcome - post your thoughts below. But visit the exhibition first.

Incidentally, if you visit, there's a chance to enter a competition to win one of Brian's home-made guitars (probably not the fireplace one). I hereby guarantee that, if I win, I will learn the play the instrument. Watch this space.