Hitler’s Rhetoric, A Rejection Report (August 2024)

This check-in is a report on a certain kind of failure–specifically, a failure to find a trade publisher for Hitler’s Rhetoric. If you’ve been following along at home, you’re no doubt aware that at the very end of November 2023, I sent my book pitch around to about 20 agents. I had interest from a few people, and I was miraculously signed by an actual New York City agent, Jane Dystel of Dystel, Goderich & Bourret. As agents go, Jane is top-tier, not just in terms of someone to work with, but also in terms of reputation. I believe the kids would call her “big time, no cap.”

In December, after we’d signed the necessary paperwork, I sent Jane a full proposal. She promptly sent it back with revision suggestions and a particular focus on making it less nerdy-academic and more popularly appealing. I revised and resubmitted in January and got another round of notes from one of the other partners, Miriam Goderich, on my “very good revised proposal.” Her words, not mine. I sent back revisions in one day.

With a revised and edited proposal in-hand, the plan was for Jane to submit the project to publishers beginning on February 28, 2024. The plan went off without a hitch!

Beginning on February 28, Jane sent the proposal to 38 major publishers, including:

  1. Ballantine
  2. Basic Books
  3. Bloomsbury
  4. Harper
  5. Little, Brown
  6. Random House
  7. Scribner
  8. Simon & Schuster
  9. St. Martin’s
  10. W.W. Norton

That’s only to name the ten I was most geeked out about, but seriously, all major. It was thrilling, but then we hit a snag. Well, not a snag so much as a brick wall. All 38 publishers ultimately passed on the project.

On July 31, Jane let me know that she’d exhausted her options. Barring some lightning-in-a-bottle turn of events, Hitler’s Rhetoric isn’t going to sell to a major trade press. I suppose the movie rights are probably also off the table. If you need to take a minute to sob lightly, please do.

Welcome back. Hope you’re not too puffy in the morning.

So obviously, a complete set of rejections is not the outcome I was hoping for, but if I’m being honest, I’m really not at all upset about it because the process has been amazing beyond my expectations. There are a lot of reasons, but I’m going to constrain myself to three here:

  1. My work was picked up by a real, top-tier agent. Like, just wow. The experience of working with her and her house on this project was incredibly rewarding in and of itself, and despite the rejection on this book, it opened the door for possible future books.
  2. It was a really eye-opening experience about trade publishing. It’s hard, y’all, but also, in spite of all the rejections, it seems much more of a human process on this side of it. I probably wouldn’t go so far as to say “humane,” but definitely human. Agents, publishers, editors, interns–just people peopling. Which I find rather comforting. Basically everyone I’ve interacted with during the process has been just a person trying to do the best they can, and by and large, they’ve been generous and kind.
  3. Now here’s the big one and the real impetus for this post. Of the 38 presses that passed on Hitler’s Rhetoric, 37 sent feedback (and one send feedback from two different editors). I’m going to break down the feedback somewhat below, but it really is amazing to have people at some of the world’s biggest publishers read and respond to my work. Nobody likes rejections, but if I gotta take ’em, I prefer my rejections with feedback from wicked smaht professionals, and the publishing houses did not disappoint.

I’ll say up-front that while I was expecting some cringey feedback, I really didn’t get any. I mean, at all. I got a couple of comments I might quibble with, but there was not a single comment that really stung, which is saying something when you’re talking about 38 rejections and 0 acceptances.

I thought about posting all the feedback I got below, but I decided it might not be prudent to go splashing editors’ non-public comments all over the internet. And I also decided it would actually be more valuable to break the feedback down and find trends. There are some verbatim snippets of comments below, but mostly just the ones that say I’m awesome…because it’s my blog and I get to decide where my dopamine hits come from here.

So, first, in the spirit of dopamine, the good stuff.

I extracted the positive sentiments from a total of 26 comments and broke them down into four categories:

  1. General expressions of enjoyment or appreciation. There were 5. Not too shabby!
  2. Comments on how interesting, fascinating, or unique the subject matter is. This category grabbed the highest number of responses: 19. My favorite comment was that the proposal “drew me in right away despite its heavy subject matter.” More generally, my favorites were the ones that said the treatment seemed “fresh” (4) or “unique” (2). Now, I realize there’s a good chance that many of these comments were people wanting to say something good to soften the blow of the rejection. “Fascinating” or “interesting” are vague and non-committal enough to fit the bill. But guess what? They softened the blow of the rejection, so achievement unlocked.
  3. Related to the former, comments on the salience or timeliness of the project. This was the second highest number of responses: 14. Again, I’m going to guess at least some of these were intended to soften the rejection. I’m not mad about it. In fact, I really appreciate the references to timeliness and salience because that’s an important part of what I want the book to accomplish, so I decided to interpret these as less vague than most of the “fascinating” ones.
  4. Finally, my very favorite category–compliments about my writing and research. An astounding 13 comments! To hear these highly accomplished, talented, brilliant professionals tell it–and I quote–I’m “impressive,” “engaging,” “authoritative,” “concise,” “lucid,” “clear-eyed,” “informed,” and “crystal clear.” Multiple editors said “strong writer.” As anyone who knows me knows, I’m terrible at taking compliments. but there’s something unique about positive comments from anonymous strangers who didn’t need to say nice things. “Fascinating” might be about softening the blow, but there’s no reason for anyone to say “strong writer” or “I really respect the author’s work” if they’re just soft-pedaling you. So what I’m going to do is hold onto these compliments and let them cascade over me any time I’m feeling particularly low as a writer.

Of course, as I may have mentioned, all 38 publishers passed–even the complimentary geniuses–so you know there are some buts in there. “Strong writer, but…,” “fascinating, but…,” “the hero the world needs, but….” Of the 38 comments, 33 editors gave explicit reasons for passing. I grouped these into six categories.

  1. The book is too specialized/too academic: 6 comments. Honestly, I’ve always expected this one. If anything, I’m surprised more people didn’t say it directly. But they also kinda said it indirectly…
  2. The largest category was what I labeled “market analysis” but which is probably better characterized as “we don’t think this book will make us money.” 14 comments noted the concern about “breaking the book out” in a “crowded category” or otherwise finding a large enough audience. I don’t think this is the same as “too specialized,” but it’s a close cousin. But hey, their job is to sell books, so whether they liked it or not, their focus has to be on the business aspect (which I don’t really want anything to do with anyway). If they don’t think they’ll be able to make a buck, I can’t be too mad about that.
  3. Okay, here’s the “let you down easy” category: it’s not the right fit for us. This was the second largest category with 10 comments. I honestly don’t have a problem believing that this is true. The nebulousness of “fit” is, well…nebulous…so it’s an unsatisfying response. But these people are the experts on publishing, not me, and they’ve got to make tough choices. Sometimes “vibes” is really all you have to go on. <shrug>
  4. Now here’s the blunter version of “vibes.” Some people just weren’t interested or didn’t like it. 6 comments in this category. While this is the category with the highest potential for sting, all the articulations of disinterest or dislike were really gentle. They didn’t hate it–they just didn’t think they were the person to represent it. There was one that could be reasonably characterized as “Hitler fatigue” (probably more if I cared to parse more carefully), but the long and short of it is that they didn’t feet enthusiastic about the project. And let me tell you, you don’t want an editor who isn’t enthusiastic about your book. I appreciate the honesty and the self-awareness.
  5. There were 4 comments that I characterized for myself as “subject-matter criticism.” I’m not sure that’s the right category, but basically they were comments that took issue with the way the content did or didn’t live up to the proposal’s claims about the book’s goals. Point taken. I can work with this feedback.
  6. The last category is outliers. There were 3 that I couldn’t find a suitable category for, and perhaps not surprisingly, they’re the ones I found most interesting.
    • One publisher thought the book’s best chance to sell was prior to the election and they couldn’t publish on the timeline. I’m here to tell you, I couldn’t have gotten them a finished book that fast, either. So maybe I missed my window? Maybe the book is just too timely!
    • Another publisher noted that my book on Trump’s rhetoric was “modestly published and that may not be the best table setter.” This is a question of market analysis, too, but one that’s really specific about my ethos. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to push trade books. Again, this is a fair consideration. Not one I can do much about, but still fair, and honestly fascinating.
    • The one I found most interesting (and perhaps a little irksome) was also one I’d girded myself for. Some editors on the board at one publisher thought the subject of Hitler’s rhetoric should be left to historians of modern Germany. Apparently Hitler is turf that must be protected. Which, if I’m honest with myself, I understand. You don’t want people peeing in your backyard, if you know what I mean. And as I said, I sort of expected this critique, so I won’t lose sleep over it.

I don’t have any grand pronouncements about what this all means. Probably things I should use when I teach writing, but I’d have to puzzle those out more carefully. But the real reason I wanted to write this post is because I’m a little surprised at how positive 38 rejections can feel. I mean, it sucks to be rejected, but it’s amazing to be taken seriously, to be read carefully, and to be engaged with by serious people. You really can’t buy that experience.

And I suppose it helps that I’m not worried about the book getting published in the long run. It will get picked up, hopefully with an academic press. Or maybe somewhere else. It remains to be seen, but I’m confident it’ll find a place on the shelf eventually. Hitler’s timely; Hitler’s timeless. I’m also fortunate that I have plenty of time, which makes all the rejection a little easier to bear.

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