Wow. In my present search for a publisher I have been so upset by the cryptic rudeness of publishers and agents alike, as if they view the writer as some inferior form of lower life. Form-letters of rejection are, to me, welcome. At least they let me know. Most do not even favour the writer with a response. Some do not even deign to answer a simple email question. Never mind how busy they are, it only takes a moment to hit the return button.
And yet, in communicating with several writers in several parts of this continent, I begin to see that perhaps we bring it on ourselves.
One writer has been working at an outline (novel not even started) for weeks, giving all sorts of ‘reasons’ for not finishing. As I see it, the primary reason for her excuses is that she likes to talk about writing, but probably never will write.
Another says that her time commuting to work (two trains and a bus each way) makes it impossible for her to find time to write. Hmmm. How about during the commute?
Another finds that family concerns force her to put it off and put it off. Family concerns. Meaning grandkids. Birthday parties, trips to the zoo, day care. Again… Not really a writer.
I say it again, a writer is one who cannot NOT write.
It is no wonder that agents and publishers can’t be bothered with writers. It is too much trouble to find the real writers in all this forest of wannabes