THE TOP 12 REASONS AGENTS GIVE FOR REJECTING MY NOVEL

6 min readMar 28, 2021

Photo by Alice Feigel on Unsplash

My novel has been rejected by more than 300 agents (not counting the ones I forgot to write down). I have now reached a certain level of rejection-expertise and would like to share with other writers my curated list of rejection reasons.

1. This is a very tough market.

I know that. That’s why I wrote to you.

If it were an easy market, I wouldn’t have bothered. When was the market not tough, just out of curiosity? Was it tough or easy when Dickens peddled his Penny Dreadfuls? (I know he didn’t write or peddle Penny Dreadfuls, but I like the way that sounds. See? I appreciate a nice turn of phrase — and I write them too. Why not have a look?)

Also, given that you think this market is so tough now, I wonder, was it any easier during the Great Depression? The last Recession? During either of the two World Wars?

I would argue this is an EASY market; maybe the easiest ever! Everyone’s stuck at home, bored as hell, climbing the walls, with nothing to do but scroll on their tablets and read e-books that cost next to nothing to produce (i.e. PUBLISH).

Nobody expects their book to be published in HARDCOVER, with life-size cardboard cutouts of the author in every bookstore window. Bookstore? What’s that, you ask? Even if there were any left, they’d be closed now anyway.

When my first novel was actually published (around the turn of the century) my publisher sent me an artist’s proof of the cover. I cried when I saw it. Flat out boring, lacking in imagination, destined for the remainder table. Remember those? Loaded with despised books, each with a black felt-pen mark angrily swiped across its bottom — which is where my book ended up anyway. I’m not sure I can blame its lackluster cover.

NB: the ‘very tough market’ rejection reason has been fading away in the last couple of months, so perhaps the market is no longer so tough. Fear not, agents, you still have eleven more reasons.

2. We are incredibly selective.

So am I. That’s why I wrote to you (and 199 plus others).

I hate the word ‘selective.’ It has a snooty, nose in the air, ‘I am better than you’ sound, doesn’t it?

So, I am to conclude that my book is like some gone-off milk or spoiled fruit? And you’d prefer to ‘select’ one that’s riper, plumper, juicer, easier to sell? Why not just come right out and say you hate it? Or, more likely, that you did not even open my query.

3. Not for me, thanks.

I used to be offended by this one. Now, I prefer it. It’s not struggling to be kind; it’s not trying to let the writer down easy. It’s sharp and to the point, like falling on my sword.

4. Radio silence, or just silence…

This is the one I get most often. I’m used to it — and I kind of like the sound of it. Simon and Garfunkel wrote a song about exactly that, though you’d have to be a Boomer to know this. And by the way, it pisses me off to be part of the generation currently written off as Boomers. On our way out. With nothing to say. Or write. My parents’ generation had no sneering label attached to it; neither did their parents’ generation. Now we have Boomers, Millennials, Gen Y (the already forgotten generation), and Zoomers.

I dutifully track these no-response responses, allowing the requisite 210 days (according to Duotrope) before I savagely click ‘NEVER RESPONDED’ on my tracking page. They’ll be sorry when my book is a mega best-seller. I get a grim satisfaction from writing them off as “Never Responders’. A sort of ‘another one bites the dust’ feeling that you likely need to be a Boomer to get.

5. I am currently focusing exclusively on work I have a deep connection to.

Uh, okay. Well, I’m not trying to be your shrink or anything. Besides, my book is a freakin’ thriller. You don’t need a deep connection to it. Just enjoy the ride. Or not. Or you can just say you hate it. I would be fine with that.

My guess is that what ‘lacking a deep connection’ means is that, since I am not a POC, LGBTQ, Trans, Non-Binary, or writing about teens with cancer, I am not wanted on this voyage. Straight White Boomers need not apply. (You likely need to be a Boomer to get the ‘not wanted on this voyage’ reference. And also, a Canadian.)

Boomers were taught never to end a sentence with a proposition. Still, I guess now it’s okay, given this person is in the literary business, and obviously not a Boomer.

6. I honestly don’t feel that I could represent your book with the requisite enthusiasm.

So why not represent it with just ordinary-level enthusiasm? Or, here’s an idea: with no enthusiasm at all? I’m not expecting a miracle. Just send it around, without any enthusiasm whatsoever. Or just say you hate it. At least that would be honest.

7. As an author in a fiercely competitive market, you need an agent who can be an absolute champion of you and your writing.

I don’t need a champion, absolute or otherwise.

‘Champion’ is a word I have come to detest, both noun and verb.

I’m not seeking a knight in shining armor (pre-Boomer reference). You don’t have to wear my colors (Henry VIII, or any other Henry, reference). Just send around the damn book. Or simply say you hate it. I would actually prefer that.

As for the ‘fiercely competitive market’ part, see point #1 above.

8. We just aren’t wholeheartedly connecting with your work, despite its many charms.

CHARMS? It’s a damned thriller. There’s nothing charming about it. Did you even read my query?

9. I can only wish you the very best as you continue to grow as a writer.

Grow as a writer? I’m almost dead! Okay, now I’m going to go stuff my face with Cheetos (circa 1948) to help me grow, if not as a writer, then just grow fatter and die.

10. Your work has been carefully reviewed, and it has been determined that [insert agency name] will not be pursuing representation of your manuscript.

How proper and polished! They wouldn’t dare just say they hate it. My book is not even deserving of hate. Hate is far too strong an emotion for my penned pile of pap. It’s not even hate-worthy. Hate would be an embarrassing admission.

11. This isn’t the sort of thing we’re looking for.

Not your ‘sort of thing’? You can just see the agent holding his or her nose.

By the way, Boomers were taught never to end a sentence with a preposition.

12. Please bear in mind that what isn’t right for me might be right for another agent. I encourage you to continue querying and working on your next book.

NEXT BOOK?! AAARGH!

Oh, and you forgot to add: ‘but please don’t send it to me when it’s finished.’

Plus, for sure I’ll be dead before I can squeeze out another book.

THE TOP 12 REASONS AGENTS GIVE FOR REJECTING MY NOVEL

Written by moganfg