Silence Isn’t Golden.

This is Part III in our three-part series on the various forms of rejection.

If you’re a fan of television medical dramas, chances are you’ve heard those emergency room docs refer to patients as “unresponsive.” Sometimes a resident performs heroic lifesaving feats, an intern shouts, “Normal sinus rhythm!”, the person on the gurney begins breathing on their own, and everyone else breathes a sigh of relief. When, despite the team’s best efforts, the poor soul can’t be revived, a glum doctor looks at a clock on the wall and somberly pronounces, “Time of death, 12:43 a.m.”

Then there’s the D.O.A., where an unfortunate victim of some catastrophic event arrives by ambulance, but it’s merely a formality. They’re Dead On Arrival and there’s nothing to be done except notify the next of kin.

D.O.A. is how it feels when a writer gets zero acknowledgement of their query whatsoever. It’s the equivalent of being hung up on via cell phone. There’s no loud slamming down of the receiver to make intentions obvious. It’s silent nothingness that somehow manages to convey a message loud and clear.

There’s nothing confirming receipt, no “yes, please” or “thanks, but no thanks,” no comments, not even a form rejection. For those keeping track, this D.O.A. situation in the industry is known as C.N.R. – Closed, No Response. (Or, more crudely put, it means we’re S.O.L.) In addition to the disappointment, these non-rejection rejections are especially frustrating because they leave us with no idea what an agent or editor didn’t like. We’ve been snubbed, like Charlie Brown peering into a rusty, old, empty mailbox, wishing for a Christmas card. “Hellloooo?!” we holler into the void, and the silence of being ignored echoes back. R.I.P. dear query.

It’s difficult to improve our querying technique, amend our comp titles, or tweak our sample chapters when feedback is non-existent and we’re left to second guess, wring our hands, and scratch our heads over what went wrong. The good news is that it’s possible, even likely, nothing went wrong. Our project simply may not be in the agent’s wheelhouse despite our best efforts to research and craft a query to fit what they say they’re looking for; or maybe it’s just not a great fit for their author roster at this particular point in time. It’s not personal, even though it feels like it.

Many literary agents state clearly in the submission guidelines on their websites something along the lines of: No response means No. Or, If you haven’t heard back from us in four weeks (or eight, or twelve), consider it a No. It’s not our first choice for handling queries, but we give them points for clarity. Otherwise, authors are left wondering and guessing and, even more painfully, hoping.

Back in the old days, when authors sent queries via snail mail, even including the requisite S.A.S.E. (Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope) didn’t guarantee a reply. So, besides the letdown of our query being D.O.A., we were out the postage. Did they send our query to File 13? Or has it been languishing in the slush pile all these years, where maybe, just maybe, one day an intern will have a look at it?

Some agents have auto replies in place so an author can be assured their query has landed in the proper mailbox and isn’t floating around aimlessly in cyberspace. This is standard for industry pros who use an online tool like QueryManager to wrangle their inquiries. It is kind. It is polite. It is professional. We thank you.

It’s a bit different for story pitches. Editors don’t generally reply simply to let you know they received your pitch and are considering it, although journals and contests that use a service like Submittable send a form acknowledgement as well a message letting writers know if their work has been selected. As for mainstream editors, some take time to answer story pitches, while others only reply if they’re interested. Sadly, even a past success with a particular editor doesn’t necessarily warrant a reply, which is discouraging in a business where building relationships seems crucial for long-term success.

Have you had queries and pitches that were Dead On Arrival? Don’t suffer in silence! We want to hear about your experience with rejections in the writing world. Let us know here, and please follow us on Instagram.

One final word: Rejection, whether it comes in the form of the dreaded silent treatment or rings loud and clear, is NOT a reflection of your worth as the fine writer and stellar human that you are.

Previous
Previous

The Horrors of Ghosting

Next
Next

Thanks, But No Thanks.