I sent the novel out again last Wednesday to a small independent publisher in the UK. It came back just short of 12 hours with a 'Though you write fluidly with well-drawn characters and an unusual and intriguing plot...we have to decline at this time.' Blah, blah!
I no longer want to kick small furry pets or throw things at the wall when I hear this. I kind of expect it and I would give up were it not for a half dozen full ms reads by agents who were full of praise for it but subsequently turned it down with varying excuses basically blaming today's marketing climate. In other words, the industry is at the mercy of the big book chains.
Robert McCrum in his article in The Observer writes:
How can good new writers be published when the industry is ruled by people who aren't interested in originality?
How indeed? And, okay, maybe I am deluded and like many an X Factor contestant I should give up the dream...but I can't.
PS No furry pets were harmed in the making of my novel - only offspring and Himself.