🔗 Share this article

Facing denial, notably when it occurs frequently, is anything but enjoyable. An editor is saying no, giving a definite “Nope.” As a writer, I am well acquainted with setbacks. I began submitting story ideas five decades ago, right after finishing university. Since then, I have had two novels turned down, along with article pitches and numerous pieces. In the last two decades, focusing on personal essays, the rejections have only increased. Regularly, I face a rejection frequently—amounting to more than 100 times a year. In total, rejections in my profession run into thousands. Today, I could claim a advanced degree in rejection.

So, does this seem like a self-pitying outburst? Absolutely not. Because, finally, at the age of 73, I have accepted rejection.

How Have I Accomplished It?

For perspective: At this point, just about everyone and their distant cousin has said no. I’ve never counted my win-lose ratio—that would be quite demoralizing.

As an illustration: not long ago, a newspaper editor rejected 20 pieces one after another before accepting one. A few years ago, over 50 publishing houses declined my book idea before someone accepted it. A few years later, 25 representatives rejected a book pitch. A particular editor even asked that I send articles less often.

My Phases of Setback

In my 20s, every no hurt. I felt attacked. It was not just my work was being turned down, but myself.

No sooner a submission was turned down, I would start the “seven stages of rejection”:

• First, surprise. How could this happen? Why would they be ignore my ability?
• Second, refusal to accept. Certainly they rejected the mistake? It has to be an mistake.
• Third, dismissal. What do editors know? Who appointed you to judge on my efforts? You’re stupid and their outlet is poor. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, anger at them, then self-blame. Why do I subject myself to this? Am I a martyr?
• Subsequently, negotiating (preferably accompanied by delusion). How can I convince you to recognise me as a unique writer?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. What’s more, I can never become accomplished.

So it went over many years.

Excellent Precedents

Certainly, I was in fine fellowship. Tales of creators whose books was originally declined are plentiful. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Nearly each renowned author was first rejected. If they could succeed despite no’s, then possibly I could, too. The basketball legend was cut from his youth squad. The majority of US presidents over the past six decades had earlier failed in elections. Sylvester Stallone says that his Rocky screenplay and desire to star were declined 1,500 times. “I take rejection as an alarm to wake me up and keep moving, instead of giving up,” he remarked.

The Seventh Stage

Then, upon arriving at my 60s and 70s, I entered the seventh stage of rejection. Acceptance. Now, I better understand the many reasons why a publisher says no. To begin with, an publisher may have recently run a comparable article, or have one in progress, or just be thinking about that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, less promisingly, my submission is not appealing. Or maybe the editor thinks I am not qualified or stature to be suitable. Or is no longer in the market for the wares I am peddling. Or was too distracted and read my submission too fast to appreciate its value.

Feel free call it an epiphany. Everything can be turned down, and for numerous reasons, and there is almost little you can do about it. Certain reasons for rejection are forever not up to you.

Your Responsibility

Some aspects are your fault. Let’s face it, my pitches and submissions may from time to time be poorly thought out. They may lack relevance and resonance, or the idea I am trying to express is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Maybe a part about my writing style, especially dashes, was offensive.

The essence is that, despite all my long career and rejection, I have succeeded in being published in many places. I’ve written two books—my first when I was middle-aged, my second, a personal story, at older—and over numerous essays. Those pieces have featured in publications major and minor, in regional, worldwide sources. My debut commentary appeared decades ago—and I have now contributed to that publication for half a century.

However, no major hits, no book signings publicly, no features on talk shows, no Ted Talks, no book awards, no big awards, no Nobel Prize, and no medal. But I can better accept rejection at this stage, because my, admittedly modest achievements have cushioned the blows of my frequent denials. I can choose to be reflective about it all now.

Instructive Setbacks

Rejection can be educational, but provided that you heed what it’s trying to teach. If not, you will almost certainly just keep interpreting no’s incorrectly. So what teachings have I learned?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What