Degrees of rejection

Even people who aren't themselves writers are familiar with the idea that writers just starting out encounter lots of rejection, over and over, before they ever get anywhere with their work. We've all heard the stories of Stephen King getting hundreds of rejection slips before he became, you know, Stephen King. It's not too different from aspiring actors going to a thousand auditions before they get their first gig, or a garage band playing all kinds of small gigs before they get a shot at a record deal.

In all these legends of paying your dues until you finally make it, the implication seems to be that you toil away without of a sense whether you're getting closer to the goal or not, until WHAM -- all at once, you've made it.

What I'm finding with my own writing is that although I haven't yet had any stories accepted for publication, I've noticed a change in the quality of many of the rejections that leads me to believe I must be getting closer.

Non-writers may not know this, but most of the time rejection comes as a form note (more often a half-sheet than a full letter) that says nothing more than, "Sorry, we can't use this, good luck to you placing this elsewhere." I've received plenty of this, and I don't let it bother me. It's silly to think it's some kind of slap in the face, when almost everyone is getting this same bulk rejection treatment. Editors have a ridiculous number of terrible-bad manuscripts to sort through, and they can't take the time to offer coaching or suggestions or (usually) even specific reasons why they don't want the story.

Several of my latest rejections, though, have included more encouraging language. Compared to a flatly generic "Sorry, no," getting a rejection that says something more specific like, "Very nicely written and I like much of it, but didn't grab me quite enough for a buy," is more like rejection LITE. After getting a few such notes this month, I feel like I'm getting closer to the goal. Maybe I'm crazy-delusional, but I think this is a good sign.

Words In: Horns by Joe Hill

Just finishing up Horns by Joe Hill, in audiobook format. Hill's first novel Heart Shaped Box was one of my favorite new discoveries of last year, a somewhat dark, edgy book of clever, compact nastiness. If you didn't already know this, Joe Hill is Stephen King's son, and decided to try writing under a pseudonym to see if he could have a career of his own without his dad's influence. Eventually his cover was blown, but he continues to use the name. His real-life name is Joe Hillstrom King so the pen name is really just the first half of his full, proper name anyway. Hey, maybe I should try to get published as "Michael Jay?"





The earlier book followed a somewhat washed-up rock-and-roller whose life is turned upside down when he purchases an old man's suit that turns out to be cursed. Hill's follow-up, Horns, likewise observes the intrusion into a character's life of a dark influence. In this case, a year after Ig Parrish's girlfriend is raped and murdered (a crime for which he was the main suspect, though no case is ever brought against Ig or any other culprit) Ig Parrish finds himself with a pair of devil-like horns sprouting from his forehead. And not just horns, but a strange influence over everyone he comes across, a certain power over their will, and insight into things they've done before that they wouldn't want anyone else to know.

His life has already been essentially ruined as the book begins, as his girlfriend is gone, and everyone who knows them, including Ig's own family, thinks Ig killed her and got away with it. Having hit bottom, Ig follows the power and influence of the horns, and though they bring him a lot of trouble they also help him to discover some facts about troubling events in his life, including his girlfriend's murder.




Hill's short story collection Twentieth Century Ghosts, followed by the top-notch debut novel Heart Shaped Box and now his sophomore novel effort Horns, are enough to establish him as one of the strongest talents working in the field of suspense and horror fiction. His writing has a lot of similarities to his own father's early work, in particular such high points as The Shining, Dead Zone, and Carrie.

Overall I'd judge Horns to be slightly below the standard of the first novel, though still worth reading and still indicative of the likelihood of strong future work coming from this writer.