Day 5: My First Rejection From My Publisher
Recap: Yesterday on Day 4, I mailed my first proper piece to my publisher for approval.
Day 5
Woke up early — 11:15 a.m. Excited about Theo’s reaction to my first proper article.
Email from Janice: meeting with Theo at 9:30 a.m. Oh.
Rang Janice, apologized but the bus had broken down, was going to be late. She said I’d better come straight away; Theo wasn’t happy. Is he ever?
Got the next bus, arrived at 12:15.
“Go straight in,” she said.
“Morning, Theo,” I said. He was on the phone, motioned for me to stay where I was. The cat had the chair. My Being Content article was on his desk.
He finished his phone call and picked up the article. “Not so easy without AI,” he said. I stayed quiet.
“It starts poorly, loses direction in the middle, and ends badly,” he said.
Janice was only six feet away in the room divided into an office and reception. She sniggered and turned it into a cough.
Here we go again, I thought. I had spent hours on that piece, up till midnight the previous day. 250 of my best words.
“It’s rubbish, Mark,” said Theo. “Exactly what I expected.” He explained, reasonably. I was not a writer. Not even the start of a writer. I was hopeless.
“What made you think you could do this, Mark?” he asked.
I told him how I thought writing might be a way out for me, a chance to achieve something. To earn some honest money for a change instead of… the other thing.
Theo listened. He looked at Janice, then at the cat, then back to me.
“Mark, you’re useless,” said Theo. “You can’t write, it’s a complete failure.”
I said nothing. There was a smell wafting up from the cat.
“But” said Theo. “You didn’t cheat with AI and I can see you tried.”
Theo explained. Every chancer in town wants to make a fast buck at his expense. They think because he’s old he’s an easy mark. He’s sick of it.
“I think you’re too stupid to try to rip me off,” he said, in a kindly way.
I waited for the punchline.
“Do you want to learn properly?” he asked, giving me that gimlet eye again. I nodded my head, didn’t want the tears to show.
Theo showed me my article, covered in red ink. Lines crossed out, notes made, corrections. “Keep this,” he said, “It’s your first lesson. Study it well.”
He told me to go home and try again. Just the one article, 150 words this time. He was setting the bar as low as he could.
“It takes time,” he said. “If you really want to succeed — make the effort.”
He waved me away. I blurted out a thank you, and Janice smiled at me as I practically ran out of the headmaster’s office.
Woke up early — 11:15 a.m. Excited about Theo’s reaction to my first proper article.
Email from Janice: meeting with Theo at 9:30 a.m. Oh.
Rang Janice, apologized but the bus had broken down, was going to be late. She said I’d better come straight away; Theo wasn’t happy. Is he ever?
Got the next bus, arrived at 12:15.
“Go straight in,” she said.
“Morning, Theo,” I said. He was on the phone, motioned for me to stay where I was. The cat had the chair. My Being Content article was on his desk.
He finished his phone call and picked up the article. “Not so easy without AI,” he said. I stayed quiet.
“It starts poorly, loses direction in the middle, and ends badly,” he said.
Janice was only six feet away in the room divided into an office and reception. She sniggered and turned it into a cough.
Here we go again, I thought. I had spent hours on that piece, up till midnight the previous day. 250 of my best words.
“It’s rubbish, Mark,” said Theo. “Exactly what I expected.” He explained, reasonably. I was not a writer. Not even the start of a writer. I was hopeless.
“What made you think you could do this, Mark?” he asked.
I told him how I thought writing might be a way out for me, a chance to achieve something. To earn some honest money for a change instead of… the other thing.
Theo listened. He looked at Janice, then at the cat, then back to me.
“Mark, you’re useless,” said Theo. “You can’t write, it’s a complete failure.”
I said nothing. There was a smell wafting up from the cat.
“But” said Theo. “You didn’t cheat with AI and I can see you tried.”
Theo explained. Every chancer in town wants to make a fast buck at his expense. They think because he’s old he’s an easy mark. He’s sick of it.
“I think you’re too stupid to try to rip me off,” he said, in a kindly way.
I waited for the punchline.
“Do you want to learn properly?” he asked, giving me that gimlet eye again. I nodded my head, didn’t want the tears to show.
Theo showed me my article, covered in red ink. Lines crossed out, notes made, corrections. “Keep this,” he said, “It’s your first lesson. Study it well.”
He told me to go home and try again. Just the one article, 150 words this time. He was setting the bar as low as he could.
“It takes time,” he said. “If you really want to succeed — make the effort.”
He waved me away. I blurted out a thank you, and Janice smiled at me as I practically ran out of the headmaster’s office.
I composed myself on the bus ride home. Took some time to study Theo’s corrections.
I reworked my version multiple times. It was long after midnight before I stopped.
Three versions were possibles, the rest were rubbish. I could see that now. I mailed the good ones to Janice.
I am going to prove to Theo I can do this writing thing.
First step is to change the diary sign-off. From “I am a writer” to…
I am going to be a writer.
I reworked my version multiple times. It was long after midnight before I stopped.
Three versions were possibles, the rest were rubbish. I could see that now. I mailed the good ones to Janice.
I am going to prove to Theo I can do this writing thing.
First step is to change the diary sign-off. From “I am a writer” to…
I am going to be a writer.
Will any of my versions be accepted? Find out on Day 6 of Being a Writer.