How Should Writers Deal With Rejection? (AKA: Get off the bottle, quit shifting the blame, and get yourself back into the game!)

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Rejection has gotten a bum rap!

I said before that I’m often asked how to write a query letter. Oddly, no one ever asks me, “How should writers deal with rejection?” No one is searching for the answer to this question. So I hesitate to even write about it. I mean . . . my job as a blogger is the same as your job as a novelist or nonfiction writer: we’re supposed to give readers what they want. Not what they need. What they want.

And yet, I do love to hear myself talk. So I’ve asked myself this great question.

I was tempted to create a blog reader who could ask me all the questions I want to answer. Then I could say something like this:

Hey, folks. I got this great question from one of my many fans. Penelope asked, “How should writers deal with rejection?”

Great question, Penelope!

:lol:
I have long suspected that some bloggers use this tactic. There are agents who seem to always be given questions that provide ample opportunity for them to hawk their wares and toot their horns.

“Ms. Superstar Agent, can you tell us about the book that just came out today and can you also give us an Amazon link for the book? And after, that, Ms. Agent, will you please tell us about the scads of books you have sold and numerous awards you have won?”

“Ah, well, shucks. I hate to talk about myself, but since you asked . . . “

 :tongue:
But I would never engage in such duplicity. So here we go with the question I asked myself.

How should writers deal with rejection?

This writing life! It’s full of disappointment: rejections, lost chances, loneliness, insecurity  . . .

Creative people feel more deeply than other folks, I think. Writing is about connecting with your audience, so writing requires empathy. We writers often reach into the depths of our own hearts and stir up the sorrows we find in those murky places because suffering is common to man, and it ties us to our readers.

Sometimes, we write about the joys of life. Sure. But those high places are usually reached after a long, hard trek. When we write about the unsurpassed view from the summit we’re really exalting in the fact that we managed to persevere and finally conquer the brutal mountain.

So we feel intensely. It’s how God made us. There’s just no way around that. And rejection often leaves a gaping wound.

Rejection causes all kinds of distress

I remember Steven Roxburgh once saying that writers are all insecure. He illustrated his point by telling a story from his early years as an editor. He told us about a famous author who had won a Nobel Prize who turned in a picture book one day and the very next day the man was on the phone asking, “Is it any good?” Roxburgh was surprised by this. Why would a man who had won a Nobel Prize be so insecure about a children’s book he’d written?

But he was. And many writers are. For many of us, rejections and criticisms are shouted and they echo long in our minds, while, awards and accolades are barely whispered and they’re quickly forgotten.

So how unfortunate for all you soulful people that there is so much rejection and disappointment in this business.

But there is. There is now, and there always will be. Whether you are waiting to break in or have already published plenty and gotten starred reviews and won awards and made a lot of money—there will still be disappointments.

Jane Yolen, at a conference several years back, told us how discouraging it was to still get rejections after publishing more than 300 books. She spoke of one book that had been out on submission for years.

“Too quiet,” the editors said.

This is Jane Yolen, I’m talking about! She still gets rejections!

If that’s the case, what hope is there for mere mortals?

Since it’s always with us, maybe we should learn to deal with it in a healthy manner

At a different conference, another well-known writer told about how she had received rejection after rejection in the early days. One morning she got a letter—another rejection—and she sat down on the floor of her entry hall and cried. Her three-year-old son came and patted her back and said something like, “They don’t know anything. Stupid sh**s.” I can’t remember the exact phrase that the child used, but it was obvious that this was the way the writer dealt with rejections: she called the agents and editors choice names.

Another writer talks about kicking cabinets.

I’ve heard others say they scream at the universe.

Still others cry to God, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Yes, we writers are sometimes a tad dramatic. This is news to you?)

Some writers let their pain and anguish bleed over onto people. They kick and curse at more than cabinets and computer screens. They make angry phone calls or shoot off flaming emails. Some take to Facebook to express their displeasure or to wallow around in depression. They say that no one likes them. Life is unfair. They are talentless hacks. And they are just going to quit writing. Some even go so far as to talk about quitting life altogether.

Maybe we need to change our focus

How many precious hours are lost to writers who are focusing on rejection? They see it as a disease that needs to be endured with gritted teeth, or, as an enemy that needs to be defeated. Many writers believe that rejection defines them as failures, and it can’t, therefore, be left to stand. The writer must quit writing or punch rejection in the face. Those seem to be the only two options.

Might I suggest a third option? Brush it off as if it were no more than a pesky fly.

In reality, rejection is a good thing. It makes us strong. It makes us perfect our walk. If a child never learned to walk in a way that was better than his first halting steps, we’d say he was disabled. We all hope that our children will not just walk, but run. But if a child were to succeed at walking with jerky steps and he never fell and never had to keep trying until he discovered that to keep his balance he needed to shift his weight from one foot to the other or bend his knees, then he’d be walking jerkily through life and he’d never be able to run bases or play tag.

At its very basic level, rejection is no more than falling down as you learn to walk. If you want to die after one rejection or five or fifty, I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but you have gotten dumber with age. You were smarter as a one-year-old when you plopped down on your diapered bottom and then pushed yourself back up again and took a few more steps.

A toddler is not focused on falling. He is focused on walking. And almost all toddlers who are focused in this way do learn to walk, and then they go on to hop and skip and run besides.

   Disclaimer: I am not a psychiatrist, nor do I play one on TV. I am 
joking around a bit at the expense of those of us who have played the 
drama queen from time to time or have given ourselves to self-pity for 
no good reason. I'm not speaking to people who have medical conditions 
and any persons who are on medication should not take my words here as a 
suggestion to flush meds.
Have any emotions you want to vent? Click away.
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10 Responses

  1. Kristen Joy Wilks

    Oh my! This reminds me of my very first “Yes” after a great many “no” answers which my children did see now and then. My coping strategy is to tell my husband and cry in his arms and then go on a walk and think up something new to work on or some way to revise. Well, when my middle boy was in first grade, I received my first “yes” to a short story that went into a book of stories by other mothers. So his teacher, invited me to come and share with the class about how my story was in this real book. Superfun! She asked my blond boy to introduce me to his class. I have the exact quote somewhere but in essence he said: “This is my mom and she writes and writes and writes and they always say no and they never ever publish what she writes … ever!” His teacher stared at him and I quietly pointed at the beautiful book in my hand that I had come to share. “Oh yeah, except for that!” and he smiled at the book, too. I guess he must have noticed all those tears over the years. He is a sensitive little guy in his own special way. Great advice, Sally. And over time, I think I’m getting better at this rejection thing. Someday, I’ll be a pro.

    Oh, and I didn’t get a notification in my email about this post either. I don’t know if your posts are being mailed out to people who subscribed. I could just sign up again, but I thought you might like to know.

    • sally apokedak

      Don’t sign up again. My site is broken as usual. This is really getting old. But even though the RSS feed is gone, I’m still posting because I have made a commitment to myself :wink: .

      • Kristen Joy Wilks

        Good for you, Sally! And I always check periodically, so I’ll be reading them. Looks like several other authors have you on their “must check just in case there is a post” list too.

  2. Rebecca LuElla Miller

    Another good article filled with wit and wisdom, Sally.

    And even though I didn’t get the article in my inbox, I saw the link on Facebook, so word is getting out that you posted. :yes:

    Becky

  3. Rebecca LuElla Miller

    BTW, :???: which bottle were you thinking of–the one toddlers need to be weaned from or the one adults turn to to drown their sorrows? :cry:

    Becky :hmm:

    (Sorry! I just like playing with your emoticons! :blush: )

  4. Hannah Hall

    Hahaha. At least kids can get away with saying what we’re all really thinking. :)

    I just got a rejection today on a guest post I wrote for a blog. And you know what I thought? “Ah well, I knew that was going to happen. It wasn’t any good anyway.” Rejection confirms what my insecurities are already thinking, unfortunately.

    And, to make matters worse, stupid Amazon and their reviews that we have such easy access to now. I can get 500 decent reviews and just a few negative ones, and which ones do I remember and dwell on? The ones that say things like “didn’t think it was any good so I returned it.” They hated it enough to go to the trouble to mail back a 6 or 7 dollar board book. Ouch.

    So, yes, Penelope, that was a great question to ask super-agent Sally. We writers needed this blog post. :)

  5. Starlettenyte Cain

    Thanks again, Sally, yet another inspirational blog, and tackling this aloof subject. Getting rejections for some people are painful, but for me, not so much, it only serves to improve me. So negative comments and turn downs, does makes me stronger. It would, however, help me to know, why. My question to you is: When getting rejected, could I ask, why, I’m not a good fit? I will continue to check for your blog, Sally, I look forward to reading what you have to say each week.

    Star

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