This Week in Rejection!: A Literary Agent

Posted on: 05/13/11

So, at the tender age of eighteen -- and a college freshman -- I approached my first literary agent. I had no idea what I was doing.

My first semester at Yale, I was fortunate enough to get into a creative writing seminar/workshop taught by a visiting novelist. For reasons that escape me (for I did not deserve it), she saw some sort of promise in my early work and -- upon learning that I had a novel I'd written in high school -- recommended I contact her agent.

Oh, that poor agent...

The novelist in question was known for true-to-life, realistic literary fiction, and I had written my version of the same in her class. But my novel, well...

When I called her agent (as instructed), I somehow managed not to mention that my novel was, er, not really in his wheelhouse: 

 

 

 

So. I pitched an "occult fantasy novel" to a guy who repped literary fiction. Let that be your first lesson, kids: Know who you're pitching to!

If you can't read his handwriting, it says: "Dear Mr. Lyga, I'm sorry, but this is not my cup of tea. Good luck with it." Kinder than I deserved, most likely, given that the novel in question was A) not in his area, and B) a steaming pile of, well, something not well-written.

Please note: Agent's name redacted to protect the innocent. My novel's title redacted to protect the guilty.

(But hey -- check out that awesome dot-matrix print-out! How cool is that? Some of you are having nostalgia flashbacks right about now...)

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