The other day I listened to an interview with a man whom many consider one of the saviors of the horror genre. I happen to agree, and I think most of you reading this who are familiar with the genre would also agree, if I told you his name. I won’t do that though. I have a point to make, but I don’t want to shame anyone in the process. From this point on, for the sake of clarity, I’ll refer to our savior of the genre as Mr. Editor.
I’ve chosen to omit his name from this essay for two reasons, because I’ve met the guy a few times and genuinely like him, and out of simple professional courtesy.
Professional courtesy is a vague concept, and I’m sure everyone has their own idea of what professional courtesy entails. I could spend the time making a list of things I think fall under the heading of professional courtesy, and I’m willing to bet that list would vary only slightly from your list. I’ll skip the list though. I have a feeling this rant will be long enough without it. Instead, I’ll give you my simple bare bones definition. Professional courtesy means not muddying the waters, not pissing in the well, not shitting where you sleep.
Throw in your own hacky metaphor. I’m sure you get my point.
I’ve been guilty of my own lapses into rudeness and stupidity over the years. Nick Mamatas may be able to give you a specific case-in-point if his memory is as long as I think it is. I don’t think I’ve ever actually apologized for that, Nick. So, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry man. I was way out of line.
I think I’ve learned from my mistakes though, and I try not to repeat them.
Back to the subject of the first paragraph, the hero of the horror genre, Mr. Editor.
I happen to agree that the man is one of the horror genre’s greatest treasures, but for me the mere mention of his name is enough to raise my heart rate and blood pressure, to make my face flush red and put me in a rotten mood that can take days to shake off. To me this man is the embodiment of frustration, anger, and the futility of trying to make a future in this business.
I am sure Mr. Editor would be shocked to hear this. I doubt like hell that this was his intention. I know he works hard, and I understand that I’m barely a blip on the periphery of his professional radar. However, I believe that he is guilty of a huge professional discourtesy, and I would bet my next advance that I’m not the only one who feels that way.
Here are the facts, as simply and innocuously as I can put them.
In 2004 I was personally approached by a fairly big name writer (who shall also remain anonymous – he hates it when people drop his name) who told me that Mr. Editor was looking for me, that he wanted me to meet him at the party in room such-and-such, that he wanted to discuss my work. So I met with Mr. Editor, pitched him my book, and he invited me to send him the full manuscript.
I met Mr. Editor again a few years later at another pitch session, and again he invited me to send a manuscript. About halfway through the second meeting he made brief reference to the manuscript I’d sent two years previous, saying he thought he had something of mine on his desk already, but didn’t think he’d gotten around to looking at it. I confirmed that he did indeed have another book of mine under consideration, and left it at that. I didn’t want to irritate the man. I engaged in a bit of professional courtesy and kept my mouth shut.
It has now been over four years since the first manuscript crossed his desk, and not a word. Manuscript #1 was available as a trade hardcover when he requested it, and has since gone out of print. Manuscript #2 was on the road to limited edition hardcover publication when he requested it, sold out by the publication date, and remains out of print. Mr. Editor knew about the publication history of Manuscript #1, and was aware that Manuscript #2 was on the road to hardcover publication, and since he has reprinted novels originally released by both of my hardcover publishers, I don’t believe that was ever an issue.
In the four years since our frustrating professional interaction began, I have sent four or five follow-up emails, all spaced at least six months apart. Again, I didn’t want to irritate the guy, but I am assured by people much higher in the business than I am that a short follow-up every six months or so shouldn’t be an irritation.
He has replied to none of my follow-up queries.
One of the first things a writer aspiring to publish his or her work has to learn is how to handle rejection, and while I will never embrace it, I have leaned to deal with it. Every writer who ever published has dealt with rejection.
But Mr. Editor hasn’t rejected these manuscripts either.
There is simply nothing. Not a word. Dead silence.
A yes or no would be nice, though I’ve never asked for either. All I’ve ever asked is to know if the manuscripts, after four years for one and two for the other, are still under consideration. Are we still playing the game, or should I pack up my toys and go home?
Others have given me advice over the years.
“Be active on the genre message boards. Mr. Editor is always reading them, and if he sees your name out there it’ll improve your chances.”
I have tried that with no obvious gain.
“Stay off the message boards. Too much casual interaction with fans makes you look unprofessional.”
I am doing that now, though for different reasons, but it hasn’t appeared to help.
“Keep sending him your stuff.”
I won’t send him unsolicited material, and if he isn’t answering gentle queries about material he requested years ago, I have no reason to believe he would reply to a query for something new. More importantly, I just can’t bring myself to throw another manuscript down that black hole. I see no gain in that, only additional frustration.
To be fair, Mr. Editor isn’t the only publishing professional I’ve dealt with who is guilty of this particular professional discourtesy. There are other Mr. Editors, a few Mrs. Agents, and a Mr. Comic Editor (there has been some communication with Mr. Comic Editor, but I think the requested script has slipped his memory again).
Tell me, fellow writers, is this your experience? Is this to be expected? Is this standard operating procedure? If so, then writers are without a doubt the most masochistic people on the planet. We would have to be to keep soliciting this kind of treatment.
To Mr. Editor, if you are reading this. I sincerely hope this doesn’t cause you any grief. My apologies if it does. This has been very much been on my mind lately, and it seems like the kind of thing in which Storytellers Unplugged readers might be interested. I hope you find I’ve tried to practice professional courtesy, even in the midst of a rant about the business.
To editors and publishers in general, I’m not suggesting you should let a bunch of pain-in-the-ass writers run your business for you, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to treat your potential talent pool with a bit of respect. If you respect an author’s work enough to request a full manuscript, you might respect the author enough to keep him in that outermost loop of your business where his manuscript awaits that hoped for Yes, or the much more common Thanks but no thanks.
The golden Yes is the reason we keep casting our pebbles into your talent pool, and those of us who aren’t used to the Thanks but no thanks already had better get used to it.
Endless silence though, that’s just rude.
14 Comments, Comment or Ping
Dave Wilson
Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to put the name to Mr. Editor, and yes, it’s exactly my experience.
But let’st not forget that there are others. I can think of at least two other editors who frequent conventions, take advantage of good times being schmoozed by authors, and can’t even remember that they asked, or that you sent for years after.
One such editor took a book of mine once, held it…lost it…took another copy…rejected after a year and a half with a cursory note obviously showing it had never been read.
A year later, I was reading an excerpt from that same novel at a convention. The same editor heard it…tracked me down…said it sounded like something she’d like, could I send it. Of course, like Charlie Brown, I kicked at that football.
I bet you can guess where it sat for another two years without a proper response…
It would not be so bad if the same editors were not CLEARLY buying new material from other authors while the requested material goes unread.
Part of the game, I guess…very thankful for agents. They get ignored too, sometimes, but they are persistent and canny…and they give us time to actually write.
DNW
Sep 23rd, 2008
Eric Wilson
I think the editing/marketing/sales side of this industry is often out of touch with the artistic mindset. Not only do they do a disservice to the authors, they treat them with an imperious attitude that would be considered unprofessional in any other business. We are serving up fresh food here, as it were–and it’s often set aside as though it’s freeze-dried.
I’ve been with two different houses and seen night and day differences between them. There are individuals who’ve been great at both, but I think much of it trickles down from a mindset at the top. I am very thankful for the time I’ve had with my present publisher. I adore my editors and publicists.
But what do you do when there is such a situation? That’s the tough part. We’re as helpless as we are in facing the oil companies who hold knives to the American public’s throats, while personally pocketing millions. We have to move down this artistic road, and there are only so many places offering us the fuel to publication.
Sep 23rd, 2008
Janet Berliner
Seems to me, Brian, that you’ve been and are being thoroughly professional, except for one thing: Don’t ever leave your manuscript with an editor for that long. You’re a professional. Check to see what the average response time is. Write to check on status at that time. Wait another period, maximum six weeks, then write again. If you get no response, let the editor know you’re moving on and do so. I’ve had editors get back to me years after the ms. has seen print. Too bad . . . for them.
Don’t confuse courtesy with hope. There is NO excuse for the way they treat us. It won’t stop until we stop accepting it as the norm.
–Janet
Sep 23rd, 2008
Dave Wilson
One thing we should make clear is that these are not meant as stereotypes…there are good editors, bad editors, good writers and bad. There are great partnerships, and awful, evil partnerships…thieves and angels. It’s always the worst and the best we remember…
Sep 23rd, 2008
Janet Berliner
You’re right, Dave, but it’s the silent ones who do us the greatest disservice. –J.
Sep 23rd, 2008
Nick Mamatas
Hey Brian, no worries!
Sep 23rd, 2008
Brian Hodge
It’s the curse of us Libras to see both sides of things.
On the left, it’s easy to see this editor inundated, and having the best intentions, but just not ever getting around to reading the mss or responding. And I speak as one who knows how easy it can be to succumb to the Power of Procrastination.
But on the right, yeah, the timeframe you cite really is way way waaaay beyond the pale.
Why not send a certified letter — so it looks out of the ordinary and more important, if nothing else — formally withdrawing the novels from consideration, and clearly but dispassionately giving the timeline of events as your reason? At this point it doesn’t sound as if you have anything to lose, and who knows, maybe there’s a longshot chance it would spur him into activity.
Sep 23rd, 2008
Janet Berliner
I’m a Libra, too, but years of waiting is beyond the pale. I say sell it elsewhere and send said editor a signed copy. –J.
Sep 23rd, 2008
Dave Wilson
That’s a cop out, though, Brian. I’m a Scorpio, so no way I care about the other side (lol) but still…
I have run help desk and support for places with 600 users, complex computer systems, and only ten or so people on staff to deal with all the issues that came up. I managed to at least inform users if their problem wasn’t getting fixed anytime soon, and even if I bumped them because someone else was more important on the productivity scale, or management, I still communicated with them - and I did NOT lose their trouble calls and ask them to resubmit months later.
Editors and editorial departments, in this electronic age, could so easily create something to let people know where they stand, and don’t. They don’t respond, and often when they do - it’s in vagaries that might as well be non-responses. Why not just say what’s what, and if that answer is - it’s not a priority, and I have no idea - why not say that?
If they ask an author for five more copies overnight - that author will more than likely leap through fiery hoops to make it so. Authors, in general, would bend over five ways to Friday to provide whatever those editors want. A simple timely update isn’t really much to ask.
Dave
Sep 23rd, 2008
Brian Knight
Hey, Dave. Your Mrs. Editor takes the cake:) Where can I get oe of those Agent thingies? I’ve heard of them, but never realy believed in them. Kind of like Santa.
Eric, sounds like you’re with a good house. Good for you man.
Janet, you’re right, of course. Unfortunatey, most of us will probaby continue to accept it.
Hey Brian. I can see both sides easily, and I have sympathy for the editors side. Sympathy wanes after a few years though
Nick, thanks mate!
Sep 23rd, 2008
Brian Hodge
> That’s a cop out, though, Brian.
Did you actually read what I wrote, Dave … at least without reading something else into it? I’m just saying I can SEE it … not making excuses for the guy or condoning it.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled misperception…
Sep 23rd, 2008
Mark Anderson
I wish you’d name Mr. Editor. Not that I’m likely to know him, but I have experienced much the same and know how frustrating it is. Maybe naming and shaming the odd Editor who has the cheek to request book proposals or manuscripts and then forget to actually do anything about it, it might help us all in the long run.
Sep 24th, 2008
Dave Wilson
Lol…okay, sorry Brian. I took this:
“On the left, it’s easy to see this editor inundated, and having the best intentions, but just not ever getting around to reading the mss or responding. And I speak as one who knows how easy it can be to succumb to the Power of Procrastination.”
While not condoning the action, a sort of empathizing with it was what I heard in my head while reading - admittedly, my hearing might be flawed…but my point is that it’s different.
Unless you have a contract, as a writer your procrastination hurts no one but yourself.
If you have a job where a good part of the responsibility is to interact with a group of others, and you just ignore that responsibility…that’s more than your average procrastination.
An e-mail takes a surprisingly short amount of time to write, particularly if you have nothing to say other than - I have nothing to say.
In any case, I didn’t mean YOU were copping out…I meant that for an editor to say they were just too innundated and overwhelmed to communicate was a cop-out.
Peace out, bruthaman.
D
Sep 24th, 2008
Brian Hodge
No worries, Dave. And I may have been a tad twitchy last night. Read that after coming home from Krav class, where we were learning how to grapple with & disarm someone holding a shotgun on us, and was still amped up.
Anyway, no no no, I have no absolution to offer an editor who keeps someone waiting that long under those circumstances. I can just understand how it might happen. For me, during those times when the daily to-do list really weighs heavy, e-mail is invariably one of the things that takes the first hit. NYC editors seem to live in that state all the time.
Then there’s the potential guilt factor. The longer you’ve kept someone waiting for a reply, the worse you can feel about the prospect of dealing with it. So it keeps getting easier to put it off.
Finally, for the hopeless cases, comes the day of declaring e-mail bankruptcy. Select all, delete, a fresh slate. Ahhh … so much better. I’ll never let that happen again.
Cue God, laughing at your plans.
Sep 24th, 2008
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