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Experiencing refusal, especially when it occurs frequently, is anything but enjoyable. An editor is turning you down, giving a definite “Nope.” Working in writing, I am well acquainted with setbacks. I started submitting manuscripts five decades ago, right after finishing university. Since then, I have had several works turned down, along with article pitches and numerous short stories. In the last 20 years, focusing on commentary, the refusals have multiplied. In a typical week, I get a rejection every few days—adding up to over 100 annually. In total, denials over my career exceed a thousand. Today, I might as well have a PhD in handling no’s.

So, is this a woe-is-me outburst? Absolutely not. As, finally, at the age of 73, I have accepted being turned down.

By What Means Did I Achieve This?

A bit of background: By this stage, almost each individual and their relatives has given me a thumbs-down. I’ve never counted my win-lose ratio—it would be very discouraging.

For example: recently, a publication nixed 20 pieces one after another before accepting one. Back in 2016, over 50 editors declined my memoir proposal before someone gave the green light. Later on, 25 representatives declined a nonfiction book proposal. An editor even asked that I submit articles only once a month.

My Seven Stages of Rejection

In my 20s, all rejections stung. I took them personally. It seemed like my creation being rejected, but myself.

No sooner a piece was turned down, I would begin the phases of denial:

• Initially, surprise. How could this happen? Why would these people be overlook my talent?
• Next, refusal to accept. Surely you’ve rejected the incorrect submission? Perhaps it’s an administrative error.
• Then, dismissal. What can editors know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my labours? You’re stupid and the magazine is subpar. I reject your rejection.
• After that, frustration at them, then self-blame. Why do I put myself through this? Am I a masochist?
• Subsequently, negotiating (often seasoned with optimism). What does it require you to acknowledge me as a exceptional creator?
• Then, sadness. I’m no good. What’s more, I’ll never be any good.

This continued for decades.

Notable Company

Of course, I was in excellent company. Accounts of authors whose manuscripts was initially 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. Almost every famous writer was originally turned down. Since they did succeed despite no’s, then possibly I could, too. Michael Jordan was not selected for his high school basketball team. The majority of American leaders over the last 60 years had been defeated in elections. The actor-writer estimates that his Rocky screenplay and bid to star were turned down 1,500 times. For him, denial as someone blowing a bugle to wake me up and persevere, rather than retreat,” he remarked.

The Seventh Stage

Then, upon arriving at my later years, I achieved the final phase of rejection. Understanding. Currently, I grasp the multiple factors why someone says no. Firstly, an reviewer may have recently run a comparable article, or have one in the pipeline, or just be contemplating that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my idea is not appealing. Or the evaluator believes I lack the credentials or reputation to be suitable. Perhaps isn’t in the field for the work I am submitting. Or was busy and scanned my piece too quickly to see its value.

Go ahead call it an realization. Anything can be turned down, and for whatever cause, and there is pretty much not much you can do about it. Certain explanations for rejection are permanently not up to you.

Your Responsibility

Additional reasons are under your control. Honestly, my ideas and work may occasionally be ill-conceived. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the message I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Alternatively I’m being too similar. Or something about my grammar, notably commas, was unacceptable.

The essence is that, regardless of all my years of exertion and rejection, I have succeeded in being published in many places. I’ve published multiple works—my first when I was in my fifties, another, a memoir, at older—and in excess of a thousand pieces. These works have featured in magazines large and small, in diverse sources. An early piece appeared when I was 26—and I have now written to many places for five decades.

Yet, no major hits, no book signings at major stores, no appearances on popular shows, no speeches, no book awards, no Pulitzers, no Nobel Prize, and no national honor. But I can more easily take rejection at this stage, because my, humble successes have eased the jolts of my frequent denials. I can choose to be philosophical about it all at this point.

Instructive Rejection

Rejection can be instructive, but provided that you pay attention to what it’s trying to teach. Otherwise, you will likely just keep taking rejection the wrong way. What lessons have I gained?

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