🔗 Share this article

Facing rejection, especially when it occurs frequently, is anything but enjoyable. Someone is declining your work, giving a firm “Not interested.” As a writer, I am well acquainted with setbacks. I began proposing story ideas 50 years back, right after finishing university. From that point, I have had several works turned down, along with nonfiction proposals and countless pieces. In the last score of years, concentrating on op-eds, the refusals have only increased. In a typical week, I face a setback multiple times weekly—totaling more than 100 each year. In total, rejections over my career number in the thousands. Today, I could have a master’s in handling no’s.

However, does this seem like a self-pitying tirade? Far from it. Since, now, at seven decades plus three, I have embraced being turned down.

By What Means Have I Accomplished This?

For perspective: At this point, almost each individual and their distant cousin has rejected me. I haven’t counted my win-lose ratio—doing so would be deeply dispiriting.

As an illustration: not long ago, an editor rejected 20 submissions one after another before saying yes to one. Back in 2016, no fewer than 50 editors vetoed my memoir proposal before one gave the green light. Later on, 25 literary agents rejected a book pitch. An editor even asked that I send articles only once a month.

My Seven Stages of Rejection

Starting out, each denial were painful. It felt like a personal affront. It was not just my writing being rejected, but me as a person.

Right after a manuscript was rejected, I would go through the “seven stages of rejection”:

• First, disbelief. What went wrong? How could these people be overlook my skill?
• Next, denial. Surely you’ve rejected the incorrect submission? It has to be an oversight.
• Then, rejection of the rejection. What do any of you know? Who made you to judge on my work? You’re stupid and the magazine is poor. I refuse this refusal.
• Fourth, anger at those who rejected me, then frustration with me. Why would I subject myself to this? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, bargaining (often accompanied by optimism). How can I convince you to recognise me as a exceptional creator?
• Sixth, depression. I lack skill. What’s more, I can never become any good.

I experienced this for decades.

Notable Examples

Certainly, I was in excellent company. Stories of authors whose work was initially declined are legion. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Nearly each famous writer was originally turned down. If they could overcome rejection, then possibly I could, too. The sports icon was not selected for his youth squad. Many US presidents over the last 60 years had been defeated in elections. The actor-writer estimates that his script for Rocky and bid to appear were rejected 1,500 times. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to motivate me and get going, not backing down,” he stated.

Acceptance

Then, when I entered my later years, I entered the seventh stage of rejection. Understanding. Now, I grasp the multiple factors why an editor says no. For starters, an reviewer may have recently run a comparable article, or have something in progress, or be thinking about something along the same lines for a different writer.

Alternatively, more discouragingly, my idea is uninteresting. Or the evaluator thinks I lack the credentials or reputation to succeed. Perhaps isn’t in the field for the wares I am offering. Or didn’t focus and scanned my piece too quickly to appreciate its quality.

You can call it an realization. Anything can be turned down, and for numerous reasons, and there is pretty much little you can do about it. Certain reasons for denial are permanently beyond your control.

Within Control

Others are under your control. Let’s face it, my proposals may sometimes be ill-conceived. They may lack relevance and resonance, or the point I am trying to express is not compelling enough. Alternatively I’m being too similar. Or a part about my writing style, notably commas, was offensive.

The key is that, in spite of all my decades of effort and rejection, I have achieved widely published. I’ve published multiple works—the initial one when I was middle-aged, my second, a memoir, at 65—and more than a thousand pieces. My writings have appeared in newspapers big and little, in diverse outlets. An early piece ran decades ago—and I have now submitted to that publication for five decades.

Still, no blockbusters, no author events at major stores, no appearances on TV programs, no speeches, no honors, no accolades, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can more readily accept rejection at my age, because my, admittedly modest accomplishments have softened the blows of my setbacks. I can choose to be reflective about it all today.

Educational Rejection

Setback can be educational, but provided that you listen to what it’s indicating. Or else, you will almost certainly just keep interpreting no’s all wrong. So what insights have I acquired?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What