Today, after only minimal prodding, I received a long-promised sheaf of the rejection letters my agent has thus far received on Missionary Man. What a maddening collection! I'll share a few. I'm not naming any names, but these are all from major publishing houses, ones you will have heard from if you pay attention to stuff like that.

Some of these come from as long as a year ago, when various incarnations of a partial manuscript were circulating under the old title.

First, the positive rejections, which are possibly the most maddening of all.

November 13, 2000:

It's great to hear from you and thanks so much for sending me THE ACCIDENTAL TERRORIST by William Shunn. I don't think I've seen anything that even resembles this in all the years I've been in publishing. Shunn has a wonderful voice and an interesting story, but I just don't see how this fits into our list.

I wish I could offer you something more than my best wishes but that's all I can come up with.

November 8, 2000:

There's so much I admire in this impressively original manuscript—and so much I'm sure I'd admire in Part Two—but I just don't see any way we could publish this on our list. Let me add a personal comment—this decision is more a reflection on our effectiveness with certain books than it is a comment on the quality of THE ACCIDENTAL TERRORIST.

October 17, 2000:

Sorry to report that I won't be making an offer for THE ACCIDENTAL TERRORIST by William Shunn. As I told you, I've never come across a manuscript that caused as much consternation—consternation in a good way, mind—than this one. Most of the editorial group read most of it, and all agreed that it's very well written, very compelling, and not a little disturbing; Lord knows what's coming in part two. Mr. Shunn can really handle a tale, and his writing line-to-line is never less than impressive. Unfortunately, though, in the end we just couldn't work out how best to publish this book—the sting in the tale is perhaps too sharp, especially as it does shine such a light back on the rest of the book. A Mormon coming of age story with a terroristic ending—I just couldn't convince my colleagues how best to read a substantial readership with that as my hook. It may be that other editors see the opportunities more clearly, and I hope that's the case as the book is certainly not one I'll easily forget. If Mr. Shunn's work should come free in the future, I'd be very happy to reconsider it—he's a real writer, that much is for certain.

I've quoted that last letter before, but from an email I received from my agent, not from the actual black-and-white page. And it's relevant again, because this is the same editor who, having left the house where he first rejected Missionary Man, moved on to another publishing house, received the book again, and rejected it with the "deeply unbuyable" comment that I posted earlier today.

Anyway, I'll skip reproducing the lukewarm rejections and get right to the really nasty one of the bunch.

November 10, 2000:

I've read through the manuscript for THE ACCIDENTAL TERRORIST and was a little dismayed to find that there was 461 pages of text and almost none of it was actually about being a missionary or his arrest. It's all prelude. And that would be okay if there were actually something interesting about the prelude, but there's not much. I was sort of hoping for something along the lines of Plan 10 from Outer Space but instead get a sullen teen stuck in a Father Knows Best world whose biggest disappointment in life seems to be that he didn't get to see Oingo Boingo play at a wedding. I wouldn't have guessed that growing up Mormon could be so mundane.... The biggest drawback is that there doesn't seem to be anything here that would lead up to what happens when he goes on the mission. I get the impression that he goes mainly because he's expected to, and not out of any particular religious conviction. If he has any such convictions, he doesn't introduce them—he gives a lot more attention to his interest in science fiction. Unless there's something much more interesting in the second half, and the first half is shortened considerably (by about 2/3), I don't think this is going to work.

After saying in my own defense that I do think I firmly introduce my religious struggles in the first part of the book, I will point out that the editor who wrote this particular rejection is someone I actually know, if only casually. We've been to many of the same parties, and we've been introduced many times, and the fucker consistently fails to show any signs of recognizing me when I pass him in the halls at a convention or on the streets in the city and say hello to him by name, by God. I have many friends who are friends with him, and who seem to think he's a fine human being, but I've seen absolutely no direct evidence of this myself and I really want to shake him by the throat and say, "What is your fucking problem with me, anyway?"

There. Just had to get that off my chest among friends.

Anyway, it doesn't matter that there are editors who loathe the book or don't have much reaction one way or the other. There have been some very positive responses, which encourages me that someday we'll stumble across the editor who not only connects with the material but who can actually envision a way to publish it. I just hope it happens before my beard goes entirely gray.

Of course, I also worry that we've gotten the best responses we're ever going to get. So if you're a brave, open-minded editor, contact my agent and buy my book and prove me wrong.