Having gone back to my Medusa novel for the umpteenth time, I find myself still proud of it. Every great once in a while, a writer produces something that s/he knows is very good, and worthy of publication. Of course, the publishers hold all of the cards.
I went back to the drawing board to look for publishers who will consider literary humor. It’s not a large coterie, but, at the same time, there is an embarrassment of riches. Lots of publishers claim to be interested in humor. Look at their offerings, however, and a different story emerges.
People like to laugh. I read humorous novels frequently. Finding a publisher, however, may require an agent. Agents are more standoffish than publishers are. Most won’t even acknowledge a query. Their websites are outdated, and they have no interest in an author without name recognition.
A disturbing number of independent publishers, I see, now only accept agented submissions.
No wonder the world is so grim. People need to laugh more. My novel may not be the funniest thing ever produced, but it is good fun. I realize everyone’s sense of humor is different, but I know that people will pay good money for someone who can make them laugh.
At the same time, this is a novel. It has a carefully mapped out plot. It is also innovative. I know of nothing else quite like it. To a publisher this last point always spells caution.
I just want to say in my cover letter, “Look, I’ll help promote this. I’m not looking to get rich. I’m not expecting to change the world. I just want to see if anybody appreciates the work I’m doing.” So far, I have received a fairly uniform answer to that.
Looking over the publishers’ web pages, I see there are many of them. Many of those many are closed to fiction, humor, or new submissions. I can see why the world is having such problems. It seems to me, they might diminish if publishers would allow them to laugh a bit more.
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