December 2nd, 2005

books

A thousand eyes are blinking to drown a tiny speck of dust...

Yesterday morning I wrote responses to 14 e-queries. I got three replies. Two of them were short and kind thank-you notes for taking the time to answer. Very nice. *applause to those two authors for professional and considerate behavior*

The third, well, it was a rant. And it's not that I don't appreciate the frustration of seeking publication. Just see my post that was on RTB recently (reposted recently on my own LJ for your edification). As much as anyone, I know that it is hard to get published. I also realize how difficult it is to get a good agent. Honestly, I do. I see the evidence constantly. I don't need it explained to me, especially in language which seems to imply that all agents just might be utter blind fools. Perhaps I'm reading in, but it sure didn't make me feel good - the seemingly backhanded thanks for replying at the end didn't help either. And I certainly cannot post it here for more objective opinions, because it was private email, but I think I can talk about the general issue that it raises.

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I hope this person feels better for having vented their spleen in my general direction. I'd probably take it more personally if it didn't happen several times per year. Suffice to say, it is certainly not the sort of thing that would ever convince me to change my mind and reconsider.

(And, wow, this is one excessively ranty post!)
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