photo by suphakit73
“I discovered that rejections are not altogether a bad thing. They teach a writer to rely on his own judgment and to say in his heart of hearts, “To hell with you.”-Saul Bellow
I did not receive a pre-holiday rejection this past year; this particular publication was kind enough to wait until the second of January. If you cannot wrap an acceptance in shiny paper and bows, I am grateful to be turned down after the champagne and cookies have done their celebratory best.
What was more unusual to me was the discovery, via Facebook, that a few of my writing colleagues also received the same rejection from the same publication on the same day.
We did not conspire to submit simultaneously, nor did we discuss the matter of submissions at all. It just happened that we took a similar initiative at a congruent time. Then we were turned down. Together.
How happy to be in such good company.
This accident of coincidence taught me a new thing about rejections. Each of the writers who were declined are writers whose craft I greatly admire. They are writers with far more credits than I. Writers with MFAs and classes to teach. Writers who write and have written well.
What kind of jealous, heartless moron would get their jollies from another writer’s rejection slips? Oh, how selfish am I. But wait! There’s more.
As I watch the great writers of my generation build houses of words and novels of dreams, I walk among them learning from their grace and fervor. I know these few who shared a similar heartbreak on the second day of a new year are continuing an ardent quest to reach their own personal goals, be that a contract with a major publishing house or a slice of flash fiction tucked in a monthly.
I know too that the editors and slush pile readers who read and declined our essays were not looking at our names and laughing with big, evil grins, but were sorting and choosing, paring down, moving on.
And so it is in this new year that I am choosing to look at the inevitability of rejection slips as an impersonal formality. It ain’t always easy, kid, but if you don’t do it, you ain’t Hollywood either.
Your turn: How do you take rejection? And for that matter, how do you take success?
I used to be too personally affected by rejections — in the last months of last year though, the lack of them motivated me — forcing me to face the fact that I had slipped out of the submitting mode. Rejections to me are proof that I’m still at it – I’m continuing to be a “persevering professional.” Acceptances can’t come either if you’re not putting the work out! Thanks for a great post.
“Rejections…are proof that I’m still at it….” Well said, Pam.
And Victoria, I just love that last paragraph!
How do I handle rejections? I don’t know, it’s been a while. Too long. Like Pam, I’m getting back into the game.
So right, Pam and Christi. What a great perspective!
I just submitted my first short story to a publication and am bracing myself for possible rejection. I like to think I’d take a deep breath, recognize that rejection ≠ failing at life, and then get back to writing. If success arrives instead, I’ll likely go a little crazy and announce it to everyone around me, including random people on the street.
S.Z. Congratulations on your first submission! The first few rejections are the hardest, but that makes acceptance all the sweeter. Just remember not to take it personally.
Thanks! I’ll do my best to keep a stiff upper lip.
I’m an editor so I’ll say SZ, change that “possible” to “probable” and you’re set to sail.
Thanks for stopping, CM!
People usually comment that they fear rejection. Me? I fear success. I don’t like being rejected either and will usually do something stupid to create the rejection before others reject me thus hindering my own success. It’s complicated….
Lynne, I know right where you’re coming from, but funny it should be that way. Perhaps we fear success because it means we have to continue striving to maintain it.
Rejections really bothered me at first. Now, I accept they are part of the process. It helped that rejections I received started to contradict earlier ones I received. One publisher would not like a section/chapter/character that another publisher loved. It made me realize that publishers are just looking for things they prefer (well, in addition to solid writing).
I hear you there, Neil. We shouldn’t spend our time mourning unrequited love.