"The Selectivity That The Market Demands"

Saturday and Sunday I scrounged up three more literary agents to query. Two were just agents who handle mysteries, which is to say I couldn't find out enough about them to write a "personal" letter. The third received something better than the standard query letter, because I actually knew something about him. Whether this will pay any dividends or not, I can't say. So far, it hasn't. Keep reading.

Today's mail had a reply, if you want to call it that, from a query to an agent I sent out a couple weeks ago, a nice personal letter that had required a lot of research. What was the response? Not even a signature. Not one word. Just a printed note enclosed.
"Thank you for the query to the "Tell Everyone to Fuck Off Literary Agency."
Due to the current status of the publishing industry -- and the selectivity that the market now demands, we regret that we cannot consider your material at this time. Bet of luck placing your work elsewhere."

The "selectivity that the market demands." Well, I guess that's the key phrase. Lately, I have read some pretty mediocre stuff. My nightstand is littered with books that I got 70 pages into and put down. Sometimes I finish reading, sometimes I don't. Makes one wonder about "the selectivity that the market demands."

The thing is, if no one will read the damn manuscript how can they know whether it meets that selectivity? This was a big problem with The Shadow Warriors, and I'm starting to believe that no one wants to read computer crime in fiction, even if it just frames the story, not a whiff of it, never mind you can't pick up a newspaper or magazine without some mention of everyone's records getting hacked into or viruses, worms and Trojan horses. Maybe what sells is sex on the internet or identity theft (had mine stolen again) but that is so old hat. A lot of literary agents are technophones and Luddites, which doesn't help.

Two of my war stories. 1) went to a mystery writing conference and signed up for one of these sessions where you pitch to the agent. Got a wake up call when said agent spoke on a panel and professed major ignorance of technology. When I talked to him, he was very nice and said he had been exaggerating yada yada and please send the whole manuscript--he would like to take a look at it. Said he was very busy and please be patient. I sent the book in and waited. Waited some more. Twenty-two (22) months later I am still waiting, emails and phone calls unanswered. How patient is very patient?
2) Went to another mystery writing conference (remember, the name of this blog is suck it up) and had another pitch session. Got about three sentence in and the agent (also very nice) said, "I find computers boring and I think other people do, too." End of pitch. Jesus.
O.K., the third and last story. Get out the violins. Pour some wine. Grab your handkerchief. Years ago, with my first never published book, I went to another writing conference and had a session with a moderately well-known author who had read my stuff. He said, "this is the best thing of all the work I have read for this conference . You won't have any problem getting this book published."

Well, guess what?

Suck it up.

I should feel better after a good rant, but I don't. I'll work on my new book which no one will ever read either. After all, a writer writes.