🔗 Share this article

Experiencing refusal, notably when it happens repeatedly, is anything but enjoyable. Someone is declining your work, giving a definite “Nope.” As a writer, I am familiar with rejection. I started submitting story ideas 50 years back, upon college graduation. From that point, I have had two novels declined, along with book ideas and numerous pieces. Over the past two decades, focusing on personal essays, the refusals have only increased. Regularly, I face a setback every few days—adding up to more than 100 each year. In total, rejections throughout my life run into thousands. By now, I might as well have a advanced degree in rejection.

So, does this seem like a self-pitying rant? Not at all. Since, finally, at seven decades plus three, I have come to terms with being turned down.

By What Means Have I Accomplished This?

For perspective: At this point, just about each individual and their relatives has given me a thumbs-down. I’ve never tracked my win-lose ratio—it would be quite demoralizing.

For example: not long ago, a publication nixed 20 submissions in a row before approving one. A few years ago, at least 50 publishing houses vetoed my memoir proposal before one accepted it. A few years later, 25 agents rejected a project. An editor requested that I send articles less frequently.

The Seven Stages of Rejection

Starting out, every no were painful. I felt attacked. It seemed like my work being rejected, but me as a person.

As soon as a piece was turned down, I would start the process of setback:

• Initially, surprise. How could this happen? Why would editors be overlook my ability?
• Next, denial. Certainly you’ve rejected the incorrect submission? It has to be an administrative error.
• Then, dismissal. What do any of you know? Who made you to hand down rulings on my work? It’s nonsense and the magazine stinks. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, anger at the rejecters, followed by self-blame. Why would I do this to myself? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, pleading (preferably seasoned with delusion). What does it require you to acknowledge me as a unique writer?
• Then, depression. I’m no good. Worse, I’ll never be any good.

This continued through my 30s, 40s and 50s.

Great Company

Naturally, I was in fine fellowship. Accounts of authors whose work was originally rejected are numerous. The author of Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Nearly each famous writer was originally turned down. If they could succeed despite no’s, then possibly I could, too. The sports icon was dropped from his youth squad. Many Presidents over the past six decades had earlier failed in campaigns. The actor-writer says that his script for Rocky and desire to appear were turned down numerous times. For him, denial as an alarm to rouse me and get going, rather than retreat,” he stated.

The Seventh Stage

As time passed, when I entered my later years, I reached the last step of setback. Peace. Now, I grasp the multiple factors why an editor says no. For starters, an editor may have recently run a like work, or have something in the pipeline, or be thinking about something along the same lines for another contributor.

Or, more discouragingly, my submission is uninteresting. Or maybe the editor believes I lack the credentials or stature to be suitable. Or is no longer in the market for the wares I am peddling. Maybe was too distracted and scanned my work hastily to appreciate its abundant merits.

You can call it an epiphany. Anything can be rejected, and for any reason, and there is pretty much nothing you can do about it. Some explanations for denial are permanently beyond your control.

Your Responsibility

Others are under your control. Admittedly, my proposals may from time to time be ill-conceived. They may be irrelevant and appeal, or the idea I am struggling to articulate is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Maybe something about my writing style, notably semicolons, was unacceptable.

The point is that, regardless of all my decades of effort and setbacks, I have achieved published in many places. I’ve authored several titles—my first when I was middle-aged, another, a autobiography, at 65—and more than numerous essays. Those pieces have appeared in magazines big and little, in local, national and global outlets. My first op-ed ran when I was 26—and I have now contributed to various outlets for half a century.

Yet, no blockbusters, no book signings at major stores, no spots on popular shows, no presentations, no book awards, no accolades, no Nobel Prize, and no national honor. But I can more easily take rejection at 73, because my, small accomplishments have cushioned the jolts of my setbacks. I can choose to be reflective about it all at this point.

Instructive Rejection

Rejection can be helpful, but provided that you heed what it’s trying to teach. Or else, you will probably just keep seeing denial the wrong way. So what lessons have I learned?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What