Oh, the unalloyed joys and delights of submissions!

Your novel is as ready as you think it can be, and you send it out...

Here’s the automated email response from a leading UK literary agent to a submission query:

     ‘If we’re interested in reading more of your work, we aim to be in touch with you within eight weeks. We look at every submission we receive, and carefully consider each one, but please do be aware that due to the volume of submissions we receive, we’re unfortunately not able to respond to every writer individually, or to provide specific feedback to a writer.

    ‘Please do keep us updated about any interest you may have received elsewhere while your work is on submission to us.’

     Note the ‘look at’. What do they look at? The first paragraph? The first page?

     So on the one hand the agent will keep the writer waiting for two months, with no certainty or even likelihood of a reply, and on the other expects the writer to inform the agency if someone else has requested the complete typescript or made an offer.

     That’s not at all unusual. Here’s another response from a highly reputable London agency, this time without any time frame at all:

     ‘Owing to the high volume of material we receive, we are only able to respond personally when we’d like to discuss things further. If you do not hear from us, we're sorry to say that your submission has been unsuccessful, but we wish you all the best in your future writing career.’

     How thoughtful.

     Then again, some agents think two months too short.

     ‘We read and consider every submission we receive, but due to the great volume of email submissions we receive, please note that we will only respond to those we are interested in pursuing further. If you have not heard from us after 3 months, please assume your submission has been unsuccessful. We regret we cannot enter into correspondence with you about your submission.’

     What are we supposed to do? Sit around, biting our nails and waiting for three months when we all know the chances of getting a traditional publisher is around four percent?

    We can’t all be every agent’s dream: the 22-year-old debut romance novelist.

     It’s like throwing a message in a bottle into the North Atlantic and hoping it will reach Australia’s Bondi beach by Christmas 2028.

    No wonder most people self-publish.

    So let’s bypass the effete, rentier London agents and submit directly to those brave and increasingly rare publishers who from time to time accept unsolicited submissions direct from authors. Here’s one from a well-thought of indie that specialises in crime and romance:

    ‘Thank you for your submission which has been logged. We aim to respond within 12 weeks. Due to the number of submissions this may vary so please be patient.’

    Succinct, anyhow.

    One more publisher:

    ‘We have extremely high volumes of manuscripts sent to us and while we do read every submission (eventually) it can take quite some time before we'll be able to get back to you. Waits of up to 6 + months are not unusual so please try and be patient.’

    Six months plus? Who are they kidding?

    I happen to know that in some cases this publisher doesn't respond. Ever.

    It’s not all bad news. This is from a new-ish, small, independent London publisher:

    ‘Thank you for submitting your work to us. We appreciate your effort and creativity. Your submission will be reviewed, and we aim to respond within the next 4-6 weeks.’

    That’s a lot better.

    These are the mavericks, the optimists, the publishers who put heart and soul into what they do.

    Such as Collective Ink, with its own approach to these matters and you can read about them here:

    https://www.collectiveinkbooks.com

    And the bold and daring Extraordinary Books, which launched in 2025. Here’s what they say they stand for:

    ‘Extraordinary Books is a not-for-profit publisher with a radical mission: to disrupt the publishing industry and return it to what it was meant to be – a place for passion, not profit.

    ‘Today, six conglomerates dominate global publishing. They own once-independent houses founded by pioneers like Allen Lane, Victor Gollancz, Sylvia Beach and George Weidenfeld – people driven not by shareholders, but by ideas, creativity and courage. That spirit has been buried under profit margins and marketing formulas. EB exists to dig it back up.

    ‘We reject the closed doors of mainstream publishing. No agents required. No ‘unsolicited submissions’ rejections. No algorithms dictating which voices get heard. At EB, if you have an extraordinary book, you are welcome.

    ‘We reject the myth that publishing is a one-way transaction. Authors are not clients; they are partners. That’s why we split profits 50/50. And because EB is not-for-profit, our share goes straight back into supporting new authors, not into executive bonuses.

    ‘We reject the industry’s obsession with platforms and celebrity. Books should be chosen because they matter, not because they’re easy to sell. That’s why our submissions are reviewed by an editorial collective of readers – open to anyone who loves books. Each submission is matched with readers who share a genuine passion for the subject.’

    You can find EB here:

    https://extraordinarybooks.co.uk/about/

    I don’t know anything about the length of their unusual submissions procedures, but they surely deserve to succeed. We could do with some idealism in broken, cynical and impoverished Britain. The book industry is no exception.

Glasgow, January