Finally! Some acknowledgement that someone has read my partial manuscript. Read it and fucking hated it, yes. Still, though. I received a lovely, impersonal circular rejection email today, from a well known literary agent. Most of the email body was taken up by them apologising for the email being so impersonal and circular. The rest was basically a series of jibes about my nationality, my skin colour and how terrible I am at sex. A bit much, if you ask me, but what do I know? That’s probably just standard fare in the world of bookage and literariating.
I sort of feel like a real writer, now that I’ve been told to go fuck myself by an agent. A real writer, or a failed writer. That’s still better than a wannabe writer. I cannot hear that word without associating the person with a penchant for zig-a-zig-aahhhh. That said, Geri Halliwell and Victoria Beckham have written more books than I have. If by ‘written’ you mean ‘not written at all’. There’s probably a lot of money in ghost writing. Society feels the need to have the pretty people at the front, while the uglies do all the work in the background. That’s just how it has to be; you can’t have it the other way around. Otherwise, Billy Joel.
It’s okay to be rejected, I guess. JK Rowling’s manuscript was turned down by all the publishers until one finally took a chance on her. How the others must have kicked themselves for turning down Untitled Wizard Schoolboy Novel One. The exec at Decca Records rejected The Beatles, telling them something like ‘LOL GUITARS ARE FUCKING SHIT! I AM GOING TO WAIT UNTIL REM RELEASE AUTOMATIC FOR THE PEOPLE, OR UNTIL THE MEMBERS OF THE BAND ‘KEANE’ ARE BORN LOL’. I’m paraphrasing, slightly.
So, just like a massive fat bitch with an internet picture of Marilyn Monroe shot from an angle that makes her not look like she had a twenty three inch waist, I can cling onto the slimmest of straws that says Maybe I’m Just So Brilliant That They Can’t See It!!!!! In reality, it’s back to the drawing board. I’n going to remove the phrase ‘back to the drawing board’ in the third draft; don’t worry.
My manuscript itself is still not completely ready, so there’s still plenty of work to do before I offer up something that is actually 100% me. Then, the rejections may actually prompt suicide. In the meantime, I’m continuing to work on my new book. And by ‘continuing to work’, I mean ‘sitting on my arse, drinking cheap energy drinks and making paedophile rape cot death jokes on Mumsnet.