Following extensive research JP contributed another article to the Foreign and Colonial Quarterly Review in 1844, entitled Hayti, Its Past and Present State.She had originally intended to publish this article in the United Service Magazine, with which her regular correspondent John Philippart was connected. After requesting repeated extensions and making other demands (notably asking for between 50 and 70 copies of each issue in which her articles would appear, to distribute to her many friends and merchants in what she still called Santo Domingo), JP discovered to her extreme disappointment, that another author's article on Haiti had replaced hers. Her frustration was exacerbated by the fact that she had just invested in three voluminous sets of authorities on Haiti in French and English. Luckily she found another publisher. Her sources for this article also included an account of the revolution based on documents she had obtained from a British merchant who had been a first-hand witness.

MPD began submitting material to the New Yorker in or before 1937, against the judgement of her agent, Nancy Pearn of Curtis Brown , who is said to have exclaimed: Oh no dear, no, no, get that right out of your head, they don't have any English people at all. The first item she placed with the magazine was a bit of verse, you couldn't call it poetry at all, it was a sort of skit on Browning . After that came a report on the first refugee Jewish children arriving in London on the Kindertransport. In early September 1939 the New Yorker offered her a contract for a regular London letter. She declined the first offer, made on the day war was declared, because she expected to be fully occupied caring for evacuees; but then the evacuees were cancelled and she accepted the commission. Her contract with the New Yorker gave it initial reading rights to all her work, so from now on she did not publish in other periodicals. In the twenty years after the war she supplied the New Yorker with enough stories to fill two later collections, Good Evening, Mrs Craven, and Minnie's Room.

During the same year, 1986, a commission for LP from the Royal Shakespeare Company resulted in an anti-war play called Hawks and Doves. Ten years after the commission the play had not been produced, but since then it has reached the stage at Southampton.

Troubled by a feeling that poetry was disappearing from everyday experience, that ordinary people tended to disregard it as irrelevant, difficult, or elitist, RP proposed in 1996 to Suzi Feay , then literary editor of The Independent on Sunday, a weekly column entitled the Sunday Poem, for which she would select a contemporary poem (by writers of alternate genders) and provide a reading of it, not definitive but suggestive.

The Icarus Girl was written while HO was studying for her A levels, and it was published while she was an undergraduate at Cambridge . She reports having sent just twenty pages to the editor and getting an urgent and exciting response, and then writing the novel in seven to eight months.

She seems to have begun this work in 1816, when Longman replied very cautiously to a query about their publishing it.

Dorothea thought up the plot for this book while she was supposed to be saying her morning prayers at her bedside. The sisters drafted it at a length sufficient to fill four volumes. They had somehow conceived the notion that something horrible and startling ought to happen in our book, and we therefore managed to drag a peculiarly unpleasant and superfluous suicide into the story. They showed a few of their finished chapters to one of their brothers, who pronounced it not so bad after all, and well worth attempting to print. They had no idea how to set about publishing, but they selected three firms to contact on the basis of their advertisements. They were twice rejected, then accepted by the generous John Blackwood (publisher of George Eliot and much other fiction), on condition that they should cut their work. They remained for ever afterwards grateful to him. The first incident they cut was the one about the suicide. Reata was serialized in Blackwood's Magazine before it appeared in volume form; a new edition followed the next year.

PG told the Royal Literary Fund this year that she had written novels, dramatic pieces, and several little periodical works. She also offered them Two Little Dramas to publish for the Fund's own benefit.

Darton and Harvey , replying to an enquiry about printing what became Original Poems for Infant Minds, offered the Taylorfamilya suitable return in cash or in books. The response: Books good, but cash better.

KBG had submitted a novel, probably this one, to George Allen the previous year, but it was rejected.

Interest ran high before the play opened, on account of CG 's success as a novelist. It was rumoured, too, that the script had been turned down by one of the two patent theatres. It remained, however, unpublished.

She compiled a list of publishers and sent the manuscript out on its rounds. She later wrote that Duckworth , who accepted it, was the publishing firm to which she owed the greatest debt, because they gave her her first stepping stone.

AG had been urged to publish when she first became a widow, but had more dread of censure than hope of applause. The manuscript was accepted by Longman in spring 1805, although it was, says AG , as shabby as the ragged recruits of Shakespeare 's Falstaff (a comparison which makes it an innocent, inadequate victim of its author's greed). Longman , she said, dealt liberally with her. When, a year later, they demanded a preface, AG wrote one in half an hour. Her first publication brought her what she considered wealth and ran to seven British and American editions by 1845. It is available from Cambridge University Press ,online and in print-on-demand format in Cambridge Library Collections. The preface to the first edition apologised for the broken and interrupted sketches of a life spent in the most remote obscurity . . . comprehending so little to excite interest or gratify curiosity and explained that the letters had been written under painful circumstances.AG later remarked: No person, I believe, was so astonished at their success as myself. In the second edition, 1807 (which differs considerably from the first), she thanked her correspondents in an advertisement for permission to use their actual names, thereby indicating that (unlike many Longman books) this was not fiction.

With the encouragement of her aunt, EG first wrote essays, short tales, and at length a novel. Later, she recalls sending a lively little paper to Blackwood's Magazine under a fictitious name and never getting a reply. The story was later published in Fraser's Magazine, which paid her £3 for it.

The piece had been commissioned as an introduction to the year's Antiquarian Book Fair catalogue, but rejected as being too hard on members of the trade.

Despite the popularity of her illustrations, KG 's writing aspirations were dismissed by William Ward of Marcus Ward and Co. (son of Marcus Ward). He called her verse rubbish and without poetic feeling and pushed her to focus on her saleable design work. Despite this criticism she continued to write in private.

Two years before this, Matheson had fired Hamilton from her position as BBC book reviewer, citing the poor quality of her reviews but also so that she could pull strings to get the slot to Vita Sackville-West .

TH 's first novel, The Poor Man and the Lady, was rejected in turn by Macmillan (after reading by Alexander Macmillan and John Morley ), by Chapman and Hall (after reading by George Meredith ) and by Tinsley Brothers (a publisher specialising in writers of sensation fiction such as Mary Elizabeth Braddon ). All were highly encouraging: they urged the writer to persevere, and either expressed anxiety lest such an overtly anti-upper-class novel might damage a promising career, or asked for revision or for a sum of money to ensure against loss.

She thus, years later, doubly disparaged her own earliest effort. Rejected by Thomas Cadell , then accepted by Thomas Hookham , this work has not been firmly identified. Other early novels followed, but LMH never admitted to them. This original one, however, brought in twice the sum required for her patronage project.

When, however, MH submitted an article on women's rights to the Westminster Review in early 1856, George Eliot did her best to prevent its being published.

EH wrote later that she first approached a publisher with a thousand fears that when the eye of learning is cast over my poor Cottage, it will be thrown down in a moment. Sure enough, the publisher liked the opening pages best (having perhaps not read the rest) but was generally dismissive, according to her account: Those things are very cheap—have burnt my fingers plaguely [sic] lately—The Reviewers have played the D—l with me. After this rejection EH for some months absolutely gave it up, until, she said, a chance meeting with George Kearsley produced an offer acceptable in itself, made with a gentility that doubled the value.

She had begun the story in order to amuse her sick brother Boris. Her father encouraged her to prepare her work for publication, and she dedicated the book to him by his initials. She sent the manuscript to Heinemann , who offered a £200 advance. She got the contract vetted for her by the Society of Authors before accepting it, and went to try several other publishers during the next few years. As well as earlier reprints, this book has been re-issued by Mandarin in 1992 and Harlequin in 2003. Its text is available at http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/heyer/moth/moth.html.

SH published her first poetry collection, Saying Hello at the Station, through Chatto , whose poetry editor, Andrew Motion , had himself approached her to ask for a volume.

The poem was reprinted by Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown in 1810. In 1821 the author was making enquiries of Longman through Joanna Baillie as to how many copies remained of this edition and whether a new one might be feasible, and if so of what size. The current Thomas Longman replied that he was down to twenty copies and would willingly surrender them if Holford wanted to bring out another edition from a different publisher. In other words, he himself was not willing to act.