Reflections On Rejection
As I stirred cinnamon and sugar into my freshly brewed coffee this morning, I scrolled the announcement posts, watching eagerly as each one went up. Winners for the annual #RevPit contest were shared this morning, and I learned that my manuscript was not selected. Rejection is never easy. Sometimes it stings less than others, but always it is an inevitable part of the writing and publishing process. I’ve come to accept this fact, and today I’m reminded of some simple, wise words:
“I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.”
I feel similarly to Sylvia Plath. There are few pursuits in life I’ve struggled with in terms of creating success once I’ve set my mind to them. Writing has been one, though, despite it being the endeavor I’ve invested the most time, energy, education, and heart into. Although it’s hard—and it is, truly—I also fully understood going into this that rejection is a part of it. It’s uncomfortable and frustrating but it’s also essential, as is learning how to move through it.
It does no good to pretend it doesn’t affect me. Perhaps you’re a writer, too, and you know what it’s like to query and submit to contests. If so, I’m betting you’re well accustomed with rejection, like me. It helps to remember the fact that most authors (even famous ones on bookshelves in millions of homes around the world) were rejected dozens, if not hundreds, of times. From the moment we begin our querying journeys, most of us will experience just how brutal and discouraging it can be.
Those who know me, know I’m not a toxic positivity person. So, I won’t be leaning heavily toward “everything happens for a reason” platitudes. But I’m also not a pessimist, so I won’t be endorsing the “you just gotta have thick skin” camp, either. I like to consider myself a realist with a dash of optimism. That’s why I can fully acknowledge the reality that publishing isn’t a meritocracy; it’s a whole lot of timing, personal taste, and luck more often than not. Writers will get ghosted. We’ll be told our work “isn’t exactly what we’re looking for right now”. We’ll be passed over for something else in the pile that fits the current market or their professional connections better. It happens. A lot.
It’s hard to remember, when we’re so connected with our work, that it isn’t personal. In fact, rejection can be a faithful guide if we allow planning and persistence to remain. What I mean is, we can learn a lot through rejection, and it can clarify where we’re going and where we should be. Sometimes, being redirected is painful, especially in creative endeavors like writing. Even when we try to be objective, it often feels like we are being rejected. This is, unfortunately, inevitable for even the most confident among us.
My only cautionary note here is to consider how much of yourself you’re willing to hand over to external forces. Ideally, we are healthiest when we’re able to thrive on internal validation instead of requiring it to come from somewhere outside ourselves. Of course it feels great when others recognize us and I’d never imply we shouldn’t want or need that. We’re social creatures after all, so it’s literal human survival to desire that connection. I always think it’s best to be honest and self-aware of whatever we’re feeling.
But I also feel compelled to remind us all that rejection of our work is not a rejection of us. We are still writers, even when our work doesn’t take off as well or as quickly as we’d like. And the length of time we’re querying or on submission, or whether or not we get signed or sell a book, says nothing about our worthiness or our contributions to the literary world. In short, it isn’t an existential crisis. We’re writers regardless, and we’ll keep writing. And that good luck I mentioned just a bit ago? We can cultivate it, invite it, and welcome it by creating a space where it can thrive.
When we’re told no, it can be an invitation to stop and re-evaluate. Not to say all rejections will be helpful, but some are. Some can encourage us to move toward better versions of ourselves and our work. So it’s not one or the other; either have tough skin or wallow in despair. It can be far more active than that. We all prefer protagonists who are the directors of their stories, right? It’s no fun to watch a character get pushed around by the plot with no agency. Let’s apply that same concept to our real lives!
When rejection comes with feedback, it’s a critical opportunity. This is when we can dive in and evaluate when and how to take that critique or feedback into account and potentially apply it to our projects. After enough rejections, we can start to identify and distinguish between feedback that signals actionable adjustments we can take and when we might need to face the tough truth that we still have more growth to do in a certain area as writers. If we’re able to feel the emotions and move through them to where we’re clear and ready to take action, we’re in a far better place than before the rejection, and the resilience we develop will only serve us in the future.
Plus, we’re in good company! Stephen King, Octavia Butler, and N. K. Jemisin have all spoken openly about the amount of rejection they experienced before going on to win countless awards and sell millions of books. Ursula K. Le Guin shared a rejection letter she received which asserted that “science fiction will never sell”. All this to say, rejection isn’t the end and it doesn’t mean our work is bad. It means that the yes hasn’t come… yet.
So here’s what we’re going to do!
We’re going to let rejection live alongside us instead of working against us. We’re going to feel all the feelings about it, and we’re going to allow it to inspire us into action. We’re going to take these rejections, give ourselves the time and space to wallow for a minute, and then once we’ve processed that, we’re going to get back to work, because we don’t want to get stuck. We’re going to keep writing, because it’s always worth it, even if nobody is reading it yet.
But how do we do that? I can’t wave a magic wand, nor can I read minds to know exactly what you need to do for yourself. But I can share what I do and hope something resonates.
First, we process.
Actually feel the emotion. Don’t shrug it off. Don’t ignore, minimize, or rationalize. Just feel it. This can be the hardest part for some of us, honestly. I tend to intellectualize, so I used to bypass this first step. But it’s the most important one, so let’s do our best to sit in the discomfort. Emotional honesty is the foundation for every other action step to come.
Name the emotion. Once we’ve felt it, we can let our intellectual minds enter the conversation. What are we feeling? Embarrassed? Sad? Discouraged? Angry? Once we can clearly identify it, we can understand how to navigate it. Hopefully, since we’ve already let ourselves fully feel it, this step should be easier.
Find the story in the rejection. We’re all writers, which means we’re storytellers. And if for some reason you’re not a writer and you’ve made it this far in a post focused on writing, it still applies! All people are creative, whether they realize it or not. But here’s where we reflect on what the rejection might be teaching us. Is it confirming something we already suspected or sensed about the project? Is it nudging us in a different direction?
Write! I’m not talking about your submitted project just yet. Right now, I’m talking about journaling. Get it all out onto the page. Maybe you just need to set a timer and free write for 5 minutes, dumping every thought out through the pen. Or maybe you want to write a letter to the agent/editor you’ll never send. Get it out of you and onto paper so it isn’t sloshing around in your mind so much. It can be fun to burn it, too, as a final release of that energy.
Then, we act.
Revisit the rejection. Once the sting has worn off and we’ve done the above steps, it can help to come back to it with a calm mind. There may even be feedback we missed before. Is it a form letter, or is it personalized? Is there any helpful note or critique buried in there that we can use? For #RevPit in particular, we have loads of insights from editors throughout the weeks leading up to today’s announcements. The #10queries posts are full of incredibly helpful feedback and thoughts from the editors. So even if our work wasn’t chosen specifically, we can learn from them!
Talk to other writers by reaching out to critique partners, writing groups, or online communities. If you’re not already connected with other writers, what are you waiting for? While writing is most often done alone, we don’t have to be solitary in it. In fact, community is the secret key to persistence in a field where rejection is the norm. Hearing “you’re not alone” or “same happened to me” from a fellow writer can be deeply validating and reassuring.
Make a plan. Can we revise anything based off whatever feedback we received? Do we send out the same version to the next agent on our lists, or do we do another pass to see where we can make further improvements? We need to give ourselves options and remember we have agency in this process, too. This will not only give us a tangible way to start moving out of the hurt but will also help us regain confidence as we follow our action plans and take steps forward.
Reassess goals if needed. Sometimes rejection can help us reconsider things or look at them in a different light. If your goal is traditional publishing and there are no other paths you want to consider, what other goals might you be able to adjust? Or can you add some entirely new ones? For instance, maybe my manuscript didn’t get selected for #RevPit, but I can look into other contests now. Or I can take some more time with revisions and push my querying timeline back a bit. Or maybe it’s my query package that needs further evaluation. It’ll be different for each of us, but whatever the direction, make it your own.
Celebrate. I know this may seem contradictory when we’ve just spent all this time discussing rejection, but I’m serious. We put ourselves out there! We won just by completing a manuscript and submitting it. We showed courage and commitment to our work, and those are both traits which will serve us well as writers. So celebrate yourself. You deserve it!
And now?
We get back out there. Submit again. Don’t let this be the end of the road. We might have taken a detour, but if we look around with curiosity instead of frustration, we may find all kinds of beauty. We may even find ourselves grateful. Who knows?
So, I’m refilling my coffee cup and opening up my revision notes. I’m diving into my most recent beta reader feedback. I’m rereading the posts from editors. I’m celebrating the fact that I’ve managed to complete several manuscripts now, and my passion for this work has only increased, despite the year of query rejections. And most of all, I’m feeling all the gratitude I have for the people who have loved and encouraged both me and my work along the way. I’m thinking of my critique partners, beta readers, editors, family, and friends. I’m smiling at just how much my community has expanded since deciding to pursue writing in this way. I’m filled anew with inspiration to keep going.
And now, I’m wishing the very same for you.
Happy writing!
“It’s all about your determination, I think, as much as anything. There are a lot of people with talent, but it’s that determination. I mean, you know, I would cry when the rejections came in—the first couple of times, anyway—and I would go to sleep feeling down, but I would wake up in the morning optimistic and saying, ‘Well, maybe they didn’t like that one, but wait till they see what I’m going to do next.’ And I think you just have to keep going... The thing is that nobody writes unless they have to. So if you have to write because it’s inside you, then you will.”
