I'm getting my rejection letters back. Just about all of them say the same thing, "great voice, unsure where this fits."

Which is frustrating, because I can't figure out how to fix that.

You have a next-book idea, right, Allyson? Worst-case scenario may be that that's the one that has to sell first.

That's the worst-case scenario, Jesse. I'll need to lick my ego-wounds for a bit, though, before I get started on a new outline.

Allyson, what about breaking up the book and sending some of the pieces individually to magazines? If some of the essays have already been published, it might be easier to sell the book.

'Course, I have no idea what magazines off the top of my head, but it's a thought.

The mask drabbles rock, all of them.

I decided yesterday to submit Save Firefly to This American Life, AmyLiz. I've got my fingers crossed that they accept the submission. The site says it can take up to six months to hear back from them.

I'm getting numb to the rejections, but it's hard to not feel like the skeevy guy in the bar. "You're so funny, but no, I don't want to have dinner with you."

Keep reminding myself that i have an awesome agent who I like a whole lot, and that almost all of the rejections compliment my voice. That's a big deal, and I don't feel like a total failure.

That's the worst-case scenario, Jesse. I'll need to lick my ego-wounds for a bit, though, before I get started on a new outline.

Well, sure. I'm just saying, my worst-case scenario still ends with you selling a book.

Very good idea, This American Life.

Rejection sucks. No getting around that. But you're right to be happy about the compliments on your voice, because that's the thing that will keep working for you, no matter what you write. If it turns out that the publishing world isn't ready for this particular bok of essays, they're stiull going to look forward to reading your next project.

my worst-case scenario still ends with you selling a book.

I love your worst case scenario.

Allyson, Jenn just sent me back a nice stack of rejection letters for one that, honestly, should have sold a good long time ago: "Still Life With Devils". Almost all say variations on the same thing: "Damn, this is fantastic! She's a brilliant writer! We adore the characters, they feel about to walk off the page! The story kept us up all night and when we fell asleep, we dreamed about it! But we have no idea where to slot it, so we're not buying it! Thanks!"

There's rejection ("thank you for submitting this, we regret etc, sincerely, editor with chequebook") and then there's regret ("dude, we love this, that's a good writer you've got there, but we need to go mainstream and this is all the way quirky for us right now").

Yes, both flavours suck. However, if you're getting the second version? Wave pompoms and then go start the second book. Those aren't rejections, they're regrets. And essentially? They're encouragement.

Just to be clear, not giving up. This may find a home at a smaller publisher.