Accepting Rejection for What It Is

A Positive Indication You’re Trying

Chuck Wending, NYT and USA Today bestselling author of Star Wars: Aftermath, had an interesting line in his listicle piece on rejection.

On his web site, Chuck Wending: Terrible Minds, Mr. Wending wrote:

Bumper Sticker: “Real Writers Get Rejected”

Let that sink in a bit. Real writers as opposed to not real writers. When I read it, I wondered, what is a not real writer?

The only answer I could come up with is a not real writer is someone who doesn’t write.

What Chuck was trying to tell us with his tongue in cheek statement goes far deeper than to write or not to write (pardon me Mr Shakesphere). It’s about possessing nerves of steel and submitting your work for publication and the very real possibility of what happens after you do.

REJECTION

Just typing the word makes me flinch a bit.

No one likes rejection, especially writers who most time wear their artistic hearts on their sleeves. We’re emotional, and actually, we’re proud of it. Emotion and passion are essential to our craft, and usually what propels us to put pen to paper.

As such, we writers feel the cut more sharply when our work gets rejected. Even though we’re told countless times not to take rejection personally, a lot of us still do. I admit, sometimes I get close to the point of curling up in a fetal position when I get rejected.

I’m willing to bet a lot of you do as well.

Usually, it’s because we put a ton of ourselves out there, exposing inner thoughts and reflections to the world, transferring pieces of our very soul to paper. It’s tough not to take it personally when a lot of our work is a personal declaration.

So when rejections come, they sting as though we just got slapped in the face. I can’t think of a single writer who enjoys having their work rebuffed.

Oh, there’s probably a few on the planet, but I just haven’t met them yet.

But does getting rejected mean we’re failures?

No, it means we’re doing our job. We’re writing, and we’re submitting our work, over and over and over again.

To borrow an old cliche idiom, rejection comes with the territory.

I think the toughest part of rejection for me is not all the “we’re going to pass on this, better luck next time” responses, but rather the no response at all rejections.

Even as a veteran of the rejection wars, this silent treatment is still a perturbing feature to me.

For a writer new to the business of getting your butt handed to you on a silver platter, this kind of rejection goes a long way in setting the stage for a bullet train journey to the pit of despair and self-loathing.

What will help manage these constant negative trainrides is to first, consider the odds, and second, take a peek over the fence at the other side of this gig.

Publishing houses receive thousands of submissions a day. Most traditional and nowadays, even Indie publishing houses, have slush piles that could fill a ten by fourteen-foot room.

If the work doesn’t show promise, they certainly don’t have the time to stop what they’re doing and write an “at least you tried” response back to us.

Some do, but most don’t.

Also, understand that just like most of us, publishers are in it for the money, and as such, are incredibly risk-averse. If they don’t think we’re going to make ’em some dough, then our work won’t make it to the show.

So, where does that leave a writer?

At the beginning of the process of course.

You write. You edit (I suggest you have a professional edit your work, or not. It’s up to you), you write your query, or synopsis or include your first three chapters, your firstborn child, fifteen quarts of blood (yours or someone else’s if you run dry) or whatever the submission requirements say you need to have, and you submit.

Two of five things will take place.

1. The first thing is probably the most essential activity which must take place. Start writing something. Immediately. Don’t even let the ink dry on your submission before you start writing something new.
2. It may happen you’ll receive a beautiful message which tells you, “Ah, no, we don’t think so.”
3. Or you may receive for all your hard work — nothing. You don’t get phone calls, letters, or emails. You get a whole lot of nothing. This one happens more than number two, which when you stop to think about it, is a whole lot of number two.
4. If your work shows promise, or you’re very, very lucky, you get a request from the publisher for the entire manuscript. Now don’t go celebrating just yet. The first three chapters of your novel may have shown the publisher something that caught their attention, but now they want to see if you have the talent (and the tenacity) to carry on to a great ending.
5. And last, and for a lot us, certainly least. The publishing company decides to publish your work. After your agent gets their cut, you take the remaining $5.75 and buy yourself that latte you’ve been dreaming about for the last ten months.

The statement real writers get rejected might be considered an insult to a lot of writers who write for the fun of it and not for the money of it, but I believe it does have merit for discussion.

Are you a real writer if you write and never submit, whether it’s to a publishing house, a newspaper, a magazine, or a blog? I’m sure this will continue to be a point of discussion long after I’ve turned to dust.

But, here’s my take on the matter.

A real writer writes.

A real writer who submits, often gets rejected.

A real writer who steps up to the plate again after striking out on three fastballs in a row keeps submitting and writing.

Whether you write, or you write and submit, or you write, submit, get rejected, and keep on submitting, the most important thing to remember is that rejection doesn’t mean you’re failing at this writing gig. It simply means you’re trying.

So keep it up. Keep getting rejected. You’re getting closer to that publishing goal than you think.

THANKS FOR READING.

Let’s keep in touch: [email protected]

© P.G. Barnett, 2019. All Rights Reserved.