🔗 Share this article

Experiencing denial, particularly when it occurs frequently, is anything but enjoyable. A publisher is turning you down, delivering a clear “Not interested.” Working in writing, I am no stranger to rejection. I started proposing articles half a century past, right after finishing university. From that point, I have had multiple books rejected, along with nonfiction proposals and numerous short stories. Over the past two decades, specializing in commentary, the refusals have grown more frequent. On average, I receive a rejection every few days—amounting to over 100 each year. Overall, denials throughout my life number in the thousands. By now, I could claim a PhD in handling no’s.

But, is this a woe-is-me tirade? Absolutely not. Because, now, at 73 years old, I have embraced being turned down.

In What Way Have I Accomplished This?

Some context: At this point, almost everyone and others has rejected me. I haven’t kept score my success rate—it would be very discouraging.

As an illustration: recently, a publication rejected 20 pieces one after another before accepting one. A few years ago, no fewer than 50 publishing houses rejected my manuscript before someone accepted it. A few years later, 25 agents declined a book pitch. One editor even asked that I send my work less often.

The Seven Stages of Setback

When I was younger, all rejections hurt. I took them personally. It was not just my work was being turned down, but myself.

Right after a submission was rejected, I would start the phases of denial:

• First, shock. How could this happen? Why would editors be blind to my skill?
• Second, refusal to accept. Surely you’ve rejected the wrong person? Perhaps it’s an mistake.
• Then, rejection of the rejection. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my efforts? It’s nonsense and the magazine stinks. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, irritation at them, followed by self-blame. Why do I do this to myself? Could I be a masochist?
• Subsequently, pleading (often mixed with optimism). What will it take you to acknowledge me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Additionally, I’ll never be accomplished.

This continued for decades.

Notable Company

Of course, I was in good fellowship. Tales of creators whose work was initially rejected are plentiful. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Nearly each writer of repute was originally turned down. If they could overcome rejection, then perhaps I could, too. The sports icon was dropped from his school team. The majority of American leaders over the recent history had previously lost races. The actor-writer estimates that his Rocky screenplay and bid to appear were rejected 1,500 times. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to rouse me and keep moving, instead of giving up,” he stated.

Acceptance

Later, when I entered my later years, I entered the final phase of rejection. Understanding. Today, I grasp the multiple factors why an editor says no. Firstly, an publisher may have already featured a comparable article, or have one in the pipeline, or simply be contemplating a similar topic for another contributor.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my idea is not appealing. Or the evaluator feels I lack the credentials or reputation to succeed. Perhaps is no longer in the market for the wares I am submitting. Or was too distracted and reviewed my submission hastily to recognize its abundant merits.

Go ahead call it an awakening. Any work can be declined, and for numerous reasons, and there is pretty much not much you can do about it. Certain reasons for rejection are permanently out of your hands.

Manageable Factors

Others are your fault. Let’s face it, my pitches and submissions may sometimes be ill-conceived. They may not resonate and appeal, or the point I am struggling to articulate is not compelling enough. Or I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Maybe something about my grammar, particularly dashes, was unacceptable.

The key is that, despite all my years of exertion and rejection, I have achieved published in many places. I’ve published several titles—my first when I was 51, the next, a memoir, at 65—and in excess of numerous essays. My writings have appeared in publications major and minor, in diverse sources. My first op-ed was published decades ago—and I have now written to various outlets for 50 years.

Still, no blockbusters, no signings in bookshops, no spots on popular shows, no speeches, no prizes, no accolades, no Nobel, and no medal. But I can better accept rejection at this stage, because my, admittedly modest accomplishments have cushioned the stings of my setbacks. I can choose to be reflective about it all today.

Instructive Rejection

Denial can be educational, but provided that you listen to what it’s trying to teach. Or else, you will almost certainly just keep taking rejection incorrectly. What lessons have I gained?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What