We all know what happens when a novel is sent out to publishers. There’s one rejection, and then another, so many that the author can paper a wall with them. And then finally, when the despairing author is ready to put a gun to her head, one special editor sees how sparkling and wonderful the book is, and says yes.

The rejected author trope is as embedded in our psyches as the sweet young thing tied to a railroad track with Dudley Do-Right racing to save her. http://youtu.be/73JORMGEA3w

Every author knows how to do rejection and misery. But what if it doesn’t unfold that way? I never thought I’d be courted by publishers. And I had absolutely no road map for what to do. But it happened. And I hope  it will happen for you. Here are some things I learned.

Money isn’t everything. Okay, money’s a lot, especially if you have a history of doing freelance work where, if you figured out how much you were making per hour, you’d weep. But when I got the final offers in an auction, all of them were enough to impress my mother that I was actually capable of earning money as a writer. Other things were more important in deciding which publisher to sign with.

If multiple editors are interested in your book, it turns out you get to talk to them. The day before The Tin Horse was auctioned, I got to have 30- to 60-minute phone conversations with each editor who was planning to bid. These talks were, first of all, Nirvana, all of them starting with a big New York editor saying how much she (they were all women) loved the book.

This made me so jubilant and floaty it was hard to focus, but after the making nice came the important part of the conversation: hearing what the editor felt I should revise. This, of course, was my audition, in which I needed to demonstrate my lack of prima donna-ism. But it was also my chance to audition the editor and consider:

1) whether her suggestions resonated – could I envision making the kinds of changes she had in mind? Interestingly, although there were obviously no details at this point, each editor did outline some general areas that gave me a feel for this.

2) how it felt, emotionally, to talk to her – was she someone I felt I’d enjoy working with, and with whom I’d be in good hands?

3) whether I felt she shared my vision for the book

About that elusive, crucial vision. I – and I think most writers – start a book with a radiant idea of what the book could be. Then I begin to mold words into sentences and scenes, and run up against problems of craft, limitations of skill, the teeth-gnashing frustration of knowing how I want my characters to end up but being unable to get them there in a way that feels organic rather than contrived. So there’s a gap, and it can be vast, between that original glowing promise and what ends up on the page. What I tried to sense, in those brief phone meetings with editors, was whether an editor glimpsed the beautiful, true book I’d dreamed of writing and could help me narrow the gap.

The editor from Random House, Kendra Harpster, opened our talk by saying she felt it was “bashert” for us to work together. Bashert is a Yiddish word often translated as “soulmate.” To me, it implies a spiritual connection between two people which is so strong that wherever they start out in the world, they’re compelled to find each other. With Kendra, more than any other editor, I felt she got my vision. That’s why I went with Random House.

And it mattered. I’d had the idea that editors don’t really edit anymore, they just acquire books. All of the editors to whom I spoke made a point of saying that they did hands-on editing, but people make all kinds of promises when they’re courting. To my amazement, it turned out to be true. Starting with an  18-page single-spaced editorial letter, Kendra spent two years working with me to bring the book I’d written closer to the book I’d hoped it could be.

So, if the gods smile on you and you’re able to choose your editor, look for a soulmate.

This is the last of my “7 Rules to Write By.” Here are all seven with links to the blog for each one:

1. Go toward what scares you.

2. Do the work.

3. Find the right critique group for you. Plus 3a on how to critique.

4. Have the will and skill to revise.

5. Write a strong query.

6. Choose your agent carefully.

7. Choose an editor who shares your vision.