Learning from Rejection
by Sarah Winn

I'd written a romance set in the old west with some out-of-the-ordinary protagonists, but I sent queries to New York just in case I might run across an adventuresome editor. The first reply was a rejection.

I wasn't surprised that the editor found my characters unsympathetic, but she also said my writing was "stilted" at times. What in the H--- did that mean?

I got on the internet and asked for advice on a couple of writer's lists. Generous souls promptly made suggestions. Several people pointed out how easy it is to write stiff, unnatural dialogue. A couple advised me to use compound words freely. Someone else pointed out that in narrative passages I might have dropped into language that didn't suit my characters. I was told to avoid excessive grammatical correctness, ie. "teacher-talk" and to vary sentence length and structure.

After getting over my fit of pique, I looked at my work again, taking all the advice I had received into consideration. The dialogue seemed natural enough, I work hard to keep it simple and in voice. I did change, "He isn't dead yet," to "He's not dead yet," thinking "isn't" sounded too formal, and "ain't" warred with "yet".

In my descriptive passages, however, I started to see words-perfectly good words that expressed exactly what I wanted to express--that were possibly out of point of view for my heroine, a prostitute in the old west. These are some of the changes I made:

roiled through flowed through
appeased her pride saved her pride
dressed appropriately dressed right
he'd shown a partiality to he'd shown a liking for
sighed tremulously sighed loudly
seemed disoriented seemed confused
eager to participate eager to play his part

A sentence I really liked also ran afoul of this test:

Francine decided their best bet would be to catch him between saloons, after he'd gotten a comfortable glow, but before he reached near oblivion.

Changing it to the following is really more explicit:

Francine decided their best bet would be to catch him between saloons, after he'd gotten a rosy glow, but before he became a staggering drunk.

In the same section I found:

Apparently, he had convinced himself that he could conceal his copious consumption of alcohol by never taking more than one drink in any one place.

I love the alliteration but doubt a semiliterate, nineteenth century madam would think in these terms so I changed it to:

Apparently, he thought folks wouldn't know how much he drank if he only had one drink in any one saloon.

I finally decided, however, that the most stilted language in my first three chapters occurred on the first page! I have what I think is a great opening line. "Where's the bitch who runs this place?" But the next few paragraphs are awkward. I was stunned by this revelation since we all know how important first impressions are. Perhaps I'd tried too hard to impress, or to cram as much information as possible into my opening. Here are the paragraphs in question:

Sally stood outside the doorway to the card room listening to the raucous voice inside. Knowing her presence would be the quickest way to shut the loudmouth up, she placed her hands below her breasts and made sure her corset was pushing her cleavage up to maximum display. Then she plastered a smile on her face and swept into the smoke-filled room.

"Did I hear someone asking for me?" she said in her sweetest voice. It wasn't hard for Sally to spot the unhappy customer. With two brass chandeliers and a couple of wall sconces, the card room was the most brightly lit of the public rooms. Only two of the four, felt-covered tables were occupied at the moment.

I made the following changes:

In the hallway just outside the card room, Sally listened to the raucous voice and pinched her lips tightly together in irritation. Since Buford had gone to the icehouse, she'd have to handle this herself. She gave her bodice a hitch to be sure her cleavage was on full display, plastered a smile on her face, and swept into the smoke-filled room.

"Did someone ask for me?" she said in a voice that dripped honey. It wasn't hard to spot the unhappy customer. The card room was brightly lit and only two of the four, felt-covered tables were occupied.

Well, I think this is better, and I'm telling myself that rejection really helped by making me take a needed closer look at my work. Of course, if the next editor rejects me because my vocabulary is limited, I don't know what I'll tell myself.

© Sarah Winn 2000

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