Photo by Nadi Lindsay at Pexels. 

The last year I have made a concerted effort to get my novel published. Firstly I had to ensure it was as perfect as possible. To do this I joined a couple of writing groups for feedback on extracts I was a little unsure of. It was the best thing I’ve ever done and really made me think about characters, dialogue and structure. So get out the garret fellow writers, the air is breathable and you don’t need a mask.

I then read some work in public, most recently at a performance workshop held by local storyteller Pete Davis at the Nottingham Writers’ Studio. People can’t hide their emotions and so this was an attempt to get honest feedback from published authors. The feedback was excellent. Then I submitted the first 50 pages to the Literacy Consultancy whose advice was fantastic. I made the necessary adjustments and then submitted for a ‘mentor’ via a scheme put forward by Writing East Midlands. Unfortunately my application wasn’t successful, largely because I underplayed how important it would be to my development as a writer. I should know better really, seeing as this is the kind of advice I spout out regularly in this blog but now serves as a curt reminder never to presume anything and that every piece of work you submit represents everything about you.

Unperturbed (you need broad shoulders as well as hardened fingertips in this trade) I was successful in winning a half-an-hour pitching slot with an agent at the Writing Industries Conference and was allocated Ollie Munson of Blake Friedmann. He was, to quote my girlfriend, ‘an absolute darling’. A soft calming demeanour, slightly shy and most importantly, someone I felt instantly at ease with. We had a chat for ten minutes about the state of literature and what writers we liked and I figured that he was delaying the inevitable rejection by avoiding discussing the three chapters and synopsis I’d submitted. But he didn’t. He liked the book and wanted to read the whole thing. We agreed a submission of the whole novel for two weeks later and I went home and read the novel for the 10,000 time and emailed it over. He promised to get back to me in May and finally got back in July. Not bad really for an agent, especially considering this period is busy with various publishing exhibitions.

I’d like to say that I sat around the house nervously biting my nails and checking my email every day, but I didn’t. Having previously had my book accepted for publication twice and then dropped on both occasions I’ve learnt it is best not to dwell on such things. You’ll know when you need to know.

An email came through from Ollie on the 6th July. I knew it was a rejection straight away because I think he’d have rung up if he was interested. An email can’t quite express excitement like a verbal conversation, not yet anyway. Naturally I was really disappointed. Not just because it meant I had to drag my body off the floor and start all over again but because I genuinely warmed to him. The world of literature doesn’t often deliver people who have a solid grounding in reality and a genuine human touch, so he’s someone I’d have loved to have worked with. He’s kindly agreed to do an online interview so that I can make LeftLion readers aware of his service, so if you’re one of the lucky b*stards that gets a publishing deal. Spare a thought…

The email read ‘I really found THIS IS ALL I KNOW to be a charming book and there was so much there I like. The writing is great, I like your central character, all things that I know are crucial to a book’s success… it also has an interesting historical value since it really does sum up what England was like at the turn of the millennium. I just wonder if we need a few more years before that era really comes back into fashion.’ . He went on to recommend an agent and publisher who he thought would like the book and reassured that ‘I really felt there was a lot to admire here and honestly, if I hadn’t enjoyed it, I certainly wouldn’t have given this reply so much thought.’ (I would have published this in full but he requested otherwise.)

I wanted to share this rejection with other writers as a reminder that you’re not alone and most importantly never to give up. It will happen, I think. Take Maria Allen, she came out of the same NTU Creative Writing Course as Niki Monaghan and has just had her book published by Tindal Street Press which has been picked as one of the Guardian’s top reads for the summer. Good things happen.

Talking of which, a few days later my girlfriend mentioned what had happened to a local publisher called Ross Bradshaw (Five Leaves) who said he’d take a look at the book. Now the waiting game starts all over again. As a publisher of Jewish culture, crime and young adult fiction it’s highly unlikely the book will be for him, but you never know. So I’m raising a glass tonight for Maria Allen’s beautiful story, to the warmth of Oli Munson, to Writing East Midlands and the Literacy Consultancy for their advice and help and to all of you writers locked away in the garret sharing this awkward meandering path. Then I’ll be turning to the gospel of Luke Brown et al.