It wasn't the lawyers who shot us down. It was the academics.
Last Friday night was the annual Authors and Editors Reception, a cocktail party thrown by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. It was held this year at St. Maggie's Cafe at the east end of Wall Street, and it was a lovely evening. I ran into my agent halfway through, though, and this is more or less what I told her (or what she told me—I was a bit tipsy): "You can tell the degree of my state of denial by the fact that I haven't responded to your email yet."
The email in question came the Tuesday before, now nine days ago. You can tell the degree of my state of denial by the fact that I haven't posted it until now:
Just talked to [Ms. Editor at Well-Respected Academic Press] who had some bad news, I'm afraid. Despite her saying that the book didn't need an academic review [because it would be published as a trade title], it turned out that nothing gets acquired there without one. The reviewer who had the book didn't care for it, unfortunately, thinking it was "too negative about Mormons." Duh! Anyway, [Ms. Editor] was totally apologetic and said she'd take it to a new reviewer and hope for a better review, but that in the meantime we should go back to Palgrave and try some other places as well. She also gave me a couple of other names that I didn't know in the religion field, and so I will saddle up the horse and get them out there. Sigh.
I mean, it's not a flat-out rejection, because Ms. Editor still wants to find a way to publish the book, and she still hopes to find a sympathetic faculty member to review it. But still, the fact that she's now encouraging us to try other publishers is not exactly, well, encouraging. Frankly it's downright discouraging.
I didn't pass my academic review. Man, I don't just feel rejected. I feel flunked.
But there was a happy occurrence at the cocktail party. Another editor friend of mine, Teresa, indicated that she hasn't actually rejected Missionary Man yet, as my agent and I had both assumed she had. And when I lifted up my sweater and showed her my "Flee Utah!" T-shirt, she laughed so hard that she fell down. Seriously. Teresa (who happens to be ex-Mormon) has narcolepsy, and any sufficiently surprisingly burst of laughter will cause her nervous system to momentarily shut down. Let me tell you, dropping Teresa to the floor is an accomplishment, and I'm proud of it.
I helped her up, of course.
