There are two beautifully written books I got really frustrated with: The Stone Diaries and Housekeeping…and (as I recall, it’s been a while), there was a noticeable paucity of dialogue…I remember what Yoko Ono said, as she transitioned from tosser of dried peas from paper bags onto linoleum, to vocal assaults upon microphones…she said: “I was dying to get back to my voice.”

It’s like reading a “quiet” beautifully written book, you as the reader start dying to get back to voices, characters speaking – imperfectly, prosaically, in advance the plot type dialogue.

Don’t know that this relates to the rejected manuscript in question. But I do have a definite preference for the “noisy” novel.

In answer to this question: “If you have had a book that has not sold, or even found representation, at what point do you, like Lepucki, consign it to a drawer?”….As a massive oversimplication I’d answer: Until the next book’s ready to roll out. But then again I have as much experience with the grind of publishing as Glenn Beck does with quantum mechanics.

Moving on is key unless you want to go down with the ship. But I would say it’s easier to deal with rejection at certain stages, dependant greatly on the defences of confidence (both in your writing and in the people encouraging you) you’ve acquired and the feedback you’re getting. The later in the process you hit rejection the better I’d imagine (Unless you get through penning an outline and someone, rightly, points out that any plot where tinned food becomes sentient and world order collapses under the weight of tinned food rights issues is going to be panned, which would save you a lot of time). At least then you know that you’ve done most of it right.

That’s a great way to look at it! I imagine it’d also be satisfying in a smug way one might not want to admit aloud. And if you’ve gotten to that point of your career, it’s likely you’d be better equipped to fix any lingering issues and make the manuscript all the stronger for it.

The way I see it, any manuscripts I have to give up on can be brought out again when a future work is so hugely successful that publishers are clamouring for books with my name on the cover.