Welcoming Rejection: Lessons from Five Decades of Writing Experience
Experiencing refusal, notably when it recurs often, is not a great feeling. A publisher is saying no, delivering a firm “No.” Being an author, I am no stranger to rejection. I started proposing story ideas 50 years back, upon college graduation. Since then, I have had two novels turned down, along with article pitches and numerous essays. During the recent 20 years, focusing on personal essays, the rejections have multiplied. Regularly, I get a rejection frequently—totaling more than 100 each year. Overall, rejections over my career exceed a thousand. By now, I might as well have a master’s in handling no’s.
So, is this a self-pitying rant? Not at all. Since, finally, at seven decades plus three, I have accepted rejection.
By What Means Have I Managed It?
Some context: By this stage, almost everyone and their relatives has said no. I’ve never kept score my acceptance statistics—it would be quite demoralizing.
A case in point: lately, a newspaper editor rejected 20 pieces in a row before approving one. In 2016, no fewer than 50 editors vetoed my manuscript before someone gave the green light. Later on, 25 representatives rejected a nonfiction book proposal. An editor suggested that I send potential guest essays less frequently.
My Seven Stages of Rejection
When I was younger, all rejections stung. It felt like a personal affront. It seemed like my work being rejected, but who I am.
Right after a submission was rejected, I would start the phases of denial:
- Initially, disbelief. Why did this occur? How could editors be blind to my skill?
- Second, refusal to accept. Maybe you’ve rejected the mistake? Perhaps it’s an mistake.
- Then, dismissal. What do any of you know? Who made you to hand down rulings on my efforts? You’re stupid and the magazine is poor. I reject your rejection.
- After that, irritation at those who rejected me, followed by anger at myself. Why do I put myself through this? Am I a martyr?
- Fifth, bargaining (preferably mixed with optimism). What will it take you to acknowledge me as a exceptional creator?
- Then, despair. I’m not talented. Additionally, I’ll never be accomplished.
So it went over many years.
Notable Examples
Certainly, I was in excellent company. Accounts of creators whose work was initially turned down are legion. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Almost every renowned author was initially spurned. If they could succeed despite no’s, then maybe I could, too. The sports icon was cut from his youth squad. Most US presidents over the recent history had previously lost elections. The filmmaker claims that his script for Rocky and attempt to star were declined 1,500 times. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to motivate me and keep moving, not backing down,” he stated.
The Final Phase
Then, when I entered my 60s and 70s, I reached the seventh stage of rejection. Acceptance. Currently, I grasp the various causes why a publisher says no. For starters, an editor may have just published a like work, or have something in progress, or be considering something along the same lines for another contributor.
Alternatively, less promisingly, my idea is not appealing. Or maybe the reader believes I lack the credentials or stature to succeed. Perhaps is no longer in the field for the content I am offering. Maybe was busy and scanned my submission too fast to recognize its quality.
Go ahead call it an realization. Any work can be rejected, and for numerous reasons, and there is virtually little you can do about it. Some explanations for denial are forever beyond your control.
Within Control
Some aspects are under your control. Let’s face it, my proposals may sometimes be ill-conceived. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the message I am trying to express is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Maybe a part about my punctuation, particularly commas, was unacceptable.
The key is that, regardless of all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have managed to get recognized. I’ve published several titles—my first when I was middle-aged, my second, a autobiography, at older—and more than 1,000 articles. These works have been published in publications big and little, in local, national and global sources. My debut commentary appeared decades ago—and I have now contributed to various outlets for half a century.
Still, no bestsellers, no author events in bookshops, no spots on talk shows, no Ted Talks, no prizes, no Pulitzers, no Nobel Prize, and no national honor. But I can more readily accept rejection at this stage, because my, humble achievements have cushioned the blows of my many rejections. I can choose to be reflective about it all at this point.
Instructive Setbacks
Denial can be instructive, but when you heed what it’s indicating. If not, you will probably just keep seeing denial incorrectly. What lessons have I learned?
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