NO THANKS, ANNE FRANK: when even the great publishers stumble

Alfred A. Knopf Sr. and the publishing house he built are among the great treasures of literary history.

Nevertheless, the immense trove of Knopf papers now housed at the University of Texas' Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center proves that Knopf rejected just as many future bestsellers, for just as many ridiculous reasons, as anybody else.

In a practice that still continues today, the piles of submissions sent to agents and, back in the day, publishers are often screened by anonymous readers, usually writers or critics desperatae for extra income. (Yes, Working Writer has been among these forgotten toilers. But only in poetry manuscripts, so don't blame her that Penguin turned your novel down.) Most of these readers are both bright and well-meaning, but as I said in my last post, no one is truly impartial, entirely open, or even eternally in a good mood.

Over the years, Knopfs's readers dismissed, among others, Jack Kerouac, Sylvia Plath, and Isaac Bashevis Singer. My favorite among their embarrassing errors is surely their rejection of The Diary of Anne Frank. As illustrious historian David Oshinsky wrote in a delightful article in the New York Times, "the work was “very dull,” the reader insisted, “a dreary record of typical family bickering, petty annoyances and adolescent emotions.” Sales would be small because the main characters were neither familiar to Americans nor especially appealing. “Even if the work had come to light five years ago, when the subject was timely,” the reader wrote, “I don’t see that there would have been a chance for it.”

Here's what I love about this: this criticism is so totally wrong, but it's also so totally understandable. The book was being considered in 1950, not a year famous for its openness to honest, unguarded female stories, much less books by obscure teenagers. If I had been its reader then, would I have recognized the priceless human tale tucked within the diary's intimate, apparently trivial events?

I like to think I would have. But honestly, I'm not one hundred percent sure.

Doubleday's Everyman's Library has recently published a lovely hardcover edition of Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl.

And it seems fitting that the re-launch of Everyman's in the early 1990s, which made possible its republication of Anne Frank now, was supported in the U.S. by none other than the firm of Alfred A. Knopf.

FILM-ETTES ON FRIDAYS: the rejected writer's revenge

The Irish comedian Dylan Moran wrote and stars in a sitcom called Black Books, which revolves around irritable and unpleasant Bernard Black, who owns (but emphatically does not enjoy) a bookstore. The protagonist of today's Film-Ettes on Fridays video is named Bernard Black, though I'm not sure whether it's part of the television show or not.

Either way, it's a hilarious take on writing rejection letters, complete with cigarettes, alcohol, editorial scorn, and promises of head-butting. Even if you haven't submitted any work to be ground in the giant gristmill that is publishing, I think you'll enjoy it. It can't be embedded in this blog, but just click here to view it. Note that the video may come up with an annoying ad at the start (a YouTube feature I can't change, much as I wish to). Just use the toolbar in the YouTube window to mute and/or skip it. It's worth the effort and annoyance.

THE ART OF REJECTION

Many of us writers have received rejection letters, usually in the guise of impersonal form letters. It's a rare treat to read a rejection letter that is itself a work of art, and also a work of apt literary criticism. Yet such things do exist. Click here to read the best rejection letter ever. And check back on Friday, when our "film-ette" is amusingly rejection-themed as well.

TOUCHY TOPICS TUESDAYS: rejection response roundup

Let's face it. Rejection is part of every writer's life. And I do mean every writer, not just those who are submitting first books or building early careers.

I've recently spoken to three different authors, all excellent writers with long careers and many published books, who are dealing with rejections because their publisher or the market or lord-knows-what-else has changed directions. And when I get the chance to talk even to the literary or bestselling giants, those writers one would think were absolutely immune, and they all have stories of recent rejections that rankle. A snide review. A publication that doesn't review the book at all. A peer who bad-mouths. A conference that doesn't invite. A book tour that isn't offered. Worst of all, a book that just doesn't sell according to expectations—the author's, or someone else's.

With that in mind, I'm offering a roundup of some online perspectives on rejection from those that know. There are lots and lots of good ones; this is just a sampling. No offense to bloggers or sites I "rejected."

I've mentioned agent Rachelle Gardner before; her blog is one of those I often turn to for clear and sensible comments on the writing biz. I did a search for "rejection" in her blog posts; this link guides you to that location. If it doesn't work for some reason I can't predict, just scroll down the right hand column of her blog until you get to the "find posts on this blog" section and click on "rejection."

I like agent Nathan Bransford's blog a lot, too. How can you not like a guy that explains writing book proposals through the metaphor of making lasagna? I couldn't find a way to search specifically for rejection, but just browsing his blog seems to put things in perspective.

Editor Betsy Lerner, author of the wonderful book The Forest for the Trees: An Editor's Advice to Writers, writes a lot of funny, salty posts. (You won't like this blog if you're sensitive to colorful language.) This one is excellent, and so are the comments it inspired. If nothing else, it will remind you that you're not alone.

Query Shark, not surprisingly, rips apart queries. Very funny, very educational, usually very apt. When you read this blog, you're actually glad agents and editors don't send critiques with their rejections. You could send your query to the Shark if you're feeling brave. Be sure to have bandages, blood supplies, vodka and/or Valium on hand when you read the results.

The blog of Dystel and Goderich Literary Management also writes well about rejection. This link brings you to an overview of some of their pieces on the subject.

Going from the sublime to the potentially repetitious, let me close with four very brief "rules" for handing writerly rejection. You've heard all this before, but it's still the best way to approach the ego-bruising reality of a writer's life.

1. Do it enough to get used to it. Rejection never becomes easy. But like some chronic illnesses and your spouse's lame jokes, it does become easier once you've experienced it repeatedly. It's much harder to get rejected once than it is to get rejected ten times.

2. Don't take it personally. They're not rejecting you. They're rejecting a series of words on paper. That's a crucial difference.

3. Keep going. And going. And going.

4. Keep learning. Sometimes rejection isn't a hardship, it's a gift. Had my first book been accepted in its original form, I would not be writing this blog today. Instead, I would be lurking on some obscure Pacific island in ABSOLUTE AND UTTER MORTIFICATION. Is your book really good enough to make you proud ten books from now?

5. Be kind to yourself. Writing is hard. Rejection is hard. Ample supplies of supportive peers, good snacks, frequent naps, and loving family and friends help. A good therapist isn't bad either.

And finally, just so that we end on a more poetic note than this little list seems to be managing, let me quote from the brilliant Barbara Kingsolver: This manuscript of yours that has just come back from another editor is a precious package. Don’t consider it rejected. Consider that you’ve addressed it ‘to the editor who can appreciate my work’ and it has simply come back stamped ‘Not at this address’. Just keep looking for the right address. Hard as it is to accept it, she's right.