Everyone in this business has to face rejections. A lot. Everyone talks about how (insert bestseller here) was passed on 27 thousand million times before it became a bestseller, so you know even bestselling authors face it.
So how do you deal with it? How do you move on? What helps?
Any favorite strategies to share with your fellow writers?
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Courtney says
I generally split my pool of beta-readers into two groups: the critical ones and the blindly adoring ones. Whenever I get a rejection, I first call up one of the second group and ask them to tell me what they specifically loved about my book: “What’s your favorite character”, “What’s your favorite line”, etc.
Then, once I’ve been pumped up anew, I go to the first group and ask what needs improving. By then, I can ask them to be as blunt and as caustic as necessary. After that… revise. It makes me feel like I’ve done something constructive toward “fixing” the rejection.
Eva Ulian says
Apart from the occasional generic rejection slip, I found most left me feeling elated.
When you get penciled remarks or otherwise scribbled in the margins or at the bottom such as “love your characters” “…Depth” “If I had had my way…” I don’t think agents are just being “nice” when they reject you but add something personal as if they were the executioner saying “I don’t want to do this but I have to.”
There are hundreds of reasons why a manuscript gets rejected and the last of these is because the writing is not good, that can always be fixed.
J. Louise Larson says
If it’s a form letter that’s amusingly polite, I save it for the day I start a Twitter called rejects#.
If there’s advice, I take any that seems helpful and informed.
Having experienced some rejection when pitching magazine pieces, I feel fairly toughened to it.
Taking comfort in awards, acceptances, kudos, or even bits of praise on my work helps shore up bruised ego.
Working daily in print journalism keeps me published – at some level – which helps.
magolla says
When you first start submitting, it hurts alot–even the form rejections. Writers think the R is personal rejection instead of realizing that it’s simply a not right for us. After awhile the form rejections don’t hurt, but the full manuscript rejections accompanied by the form rejection slips take their place.
We want to know WHY? But the wny is different for everyone.
Save the rejection and move on. I know it is easier said than done.
Chocolate helps.
Allegory19 says
Read blogs like this one, laugh, and then keep writing.
Wanda B. Ontheshelves says
Here’s a related topic I think is worth exploring – how do you handle it when you flub something? Like, say, an editor invites you for lunch and you don’t even pick up on it until you’re off the phone, and you realize, you know, that editor just invited me for lunch. I had a friend who had lunch with editors a couple of times – of course, she wasn’t a “flubber.”
Sometimes a yes is worse than a no, when you flub it.
burgy61 says
I have only got one so far for a short essay I submitted for an anthology. I never heard back from them after an email letting me know they had received it. I felt indifferent about it, there was nothing I could learn from it so I forgot it.
Anonymous says
That’s like asking a leading NFL running back how they deal with getting tackled!
jimnduncan says
I expect them, so honestly they don’t really sting that much. It’s a pleasant surprise then when I get a request for pages. I try to take to heart any positive comments that get passed along, which doesn’t generally happen (let’s face it, agents don’t have time to personalize these things), and then I file it away in a folder on my computer. Out of sight, out of mind.
Anonymous says
Actually, it’s like asking ANY running back how they deal with getting tackeld. They do their best to avoid it, but it’s part of the job.
Theophagous Monkey says
I don’t think you ever get used to rejection, but you do get to really appreciate the nicer rejection letters. Sort of like getting hit in the head with a softer two-by-four. I think, though, that editors and agents have to learn to expect the occasional outburst or negative reaction. I send out a lot of short stories and I realize that markets are really tight, so I receive a lot of rejections. Most of the time these days, I’m pretty sanguine about it. But once in while it just gets to you, especially with a particularly blithe rejection or where the editor just didn’t get the thing. Once in a while I do pop off at an editor. Not very often, and I always regret it, but I think it’s part of the process. You have to believe in what your producing or you shouldn’t be writing, and if you believe in it, it’s only natural to defend it from time to time. That said, I’ve had editors really trash a piece and then the next editor praise it and print it without revision. I’ve had agents really look at my longer work but eventually turn it down. I always thank them if I know they had a good look. In any case, although I agree that a writer needs a carapace of cold rolled steel, I think it’s only to be expected that once in a while there be an adverse reaction. To paraphrase Jean de Crevecoeur, the writing community is a big, strange, perpetually dysfunctional family. As such, it will be calamitous from time to time.
Regards,
Theo
Scott says
That is sad, isn’t it Marilyn? It’s kind of the same in music. I often wonder what would happen to the Bob Dylans, Paul Simons and Janis Joplins if they were to try to make it today? Replaced by some cookie cutter WB lip-syncers with a team of producers, probably.
other lisa says
You mean, aside from questioning my talent, self-worth and fundamental purpose in the universe?
Truthfully, rejections don’t hurt as much as they used to, and sometimes I even find them kind of funny, because along with showing me what I might need to improve, the range of reasons for the rejections is so broad and at times contradictory that I realize how arbitrary and subjective the process can be. And that the only thing I can control is what I write.
Anonymous says
The NFL analogy is exactly right. When the running back is standing in the end zone spiking the ball after scoring a touchdown, nobody’s thinking about all the times he got tackled leading up to the score. It’s just about that moment.
And in the long term, it’s about how many times he can achieve that moment. How long he can keep going and keep scoring, through all the tackles. That is the true essence of it. Because there will be tackles. Oh, yes, there will be tackles. But for some, all the tackles aren’t enough to keep them from scoring.
Marilyn Peake says
Scott,
I totally agree with you about Janis Joplin. I love her music and doubt she’d make it in music today with the current emphasis on a certain look. Have you seen the movie, Across the Universe? I love how it revolved around Beatles’ songs, but played such great homage to Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. I love that movie – the visuals are astounding!
Laura D says
Sometimes being loony-tunes helps. If you build it, they will come. If you build it, they will come. Don’t listen to anyone who says different!
Grrr.... says
Two things help:
First, take any specific criticisms and use them to make your work stronger. If, for example, the rejector claims that she cannot connect to your characters, rewrite to make them more accessible.
Second, hope. I wouldn’t keep submitting if I didn’t have the hope that eventually someone will say “yes.” If that means I have to go through my 40th rewrite to get there, I’ll do it. If I didn’t think my book was worth it, I wouldn’t bother.
I keep scanned copies of all my rejections, and throw the paper away. Someday, I will want to count them, so I can tell people that Bagastana was rejected X times before it became the beloved classic we all know (notice the generous application of hope that I have applied in the last sentence).
Serendipity says
In one specific instance, the agent had his ‘apprentice’ send me the rejection letter. I figured the agent was too busy washing his mom’s laundry to send it himself…well, it made me laugh…
ryan field says
Scott said…
“Of course, we can’t let rejection stop us…”
You’re right. So don’t š
Virginia says
Chocolate. And booze.
After I’ve had my fill of those, and of the slight depression they accompany, I get off my ass and get back to work.
Jen says
Marilyn Peake said…
Scott,
I totally agree with you about Janis Joplin. I love her music and doubt she’d make it in music today with the current emphasis on a certain look. Have you seen the movie, Across the Universe? I love how it revolved around Beatles’ songs, but played such great homage to Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. I love that movie – the visuals are astounding!
That’s only my second favourite movie of all time! LOVE it! I wish I could sing like Sadie..
However, I do think that Janis Joplin and other talented singers would be able to make it in today’s industry. One thing I’ve noticed with Aussie Idol, for example, is that the token hot blonde has NEVER won. All of the females who have won have been larger girls, and the guys are normally “interesting” looking.
I don’t think there’s as much expectation from the public that people have to look like one of those Pussycat Doll things as you might think. I think the general public still wants substance.
I think Janis would probably be a MySpace hit if she was around today, publishing her own music and taking control of her own career. A voice like that, and passion like that, transcends eras.
Anonymous says
What rejections?
I self publish.
Linda says
I write. Then write some more.
Peace, Linda
Robin Constantine says
I have almost always received rejections on Fridays. Not a great way to start a weekend.
Chocolate helps. Margaritas do too. š Making my husband take me out somewhere. Or something non food related like playing with my kids or going to the movies. Anything to distance myself from it for a little while.
If it’s a form rejection, I just get back on the horse. If it’s one of those “positive” personalized rejections I give it some (or a lot) of thought. When I’m ready to really talk about it in a constructive way, chatting with my writer buddies always puts things in perspective.
It’s easy to forget that rejection isn’t personal. There could be so many reasons why a manuscript gets rejected, even though most of the time it feels like there should be big red letters across the first page that say “You stink!”
At the end of the day though, getting back to work is really the only thing to do. Perseverance.
gem says
I’ve just had my ms rejected by nine straight publishers. How do I keep rejection in perspective? I have a job. I can pay my mortgage. I have clothes and a wood stove. I have food to eat. I have my health and a good marriage. Those things are important. Getting published or not getting published is a heart ache. But it’s not going to kill me. In the grand scheme of things, it’s really unimportant.
Annalee says
I think applying for jobs is giving me a lot of perspective. When someone rejects your novel, you are an email address to them. They will not remember you half an hour later. It really isn’t personal. When someone rejects you for a job, on the other hand? They see your whole life story on one well-formatted page. They meet you. They shake your hand. Waaay more personal. On top of all that, the stakes are higher. If I can deal with that and still manage to keep sending my resume out until Hell won’t have it, it’s absurd to be afraid of sending out an MS.
Carey_Corp says
Most rejections are pretty gentle -usually it is nothing personal. Rejections are a numbers game. If you have any kind of sales background, you realize that every “no” gets you closer to that one “yes”. To me rejections mean solid forward progress. So I say, “Thank you, Sir. May I have another?” The other thing that really helps is sending out another query each time I get a rejection. Right away! That way I am always nurturing that spark of hope…and continuing the forward momentum of my career.
Sarah says
If the letter has any comments on the submission, I pay attention to them. Even if I think they’re stupid, I’ll at least start a new document and play with it to see what it looks like.
I also show the rejection letter to my critique group, the Slushbusters. They’re great. At first, they’ll remind me of any praise in the rejection letter. I swear, if the only good thing the agent/editor said was that I followed submission guidelines, they’d praise that.
Then, once I’ve had time to process everything, they help me make my story better. It’s great: encouragement when I need it, but not so much that I’m not pushed to improve.
Moose says
I go on a kickboxing rampage.
BronzeWord says
Betty Lerner’s book The Forest for the Trees is a must read for any writer, beginning writer or thinking about writing. She has a chapter on rejection that was inspiring. Frank, honest and brutal with compassion. She told it like it is. No pulling punches. Yet there was a sense that you could still come out ahead. There was hope in her words. All an author needs to keep going. Excellent read. A Must Read. for sure
Jo Ann Hernandez
https://bronzeword.wordpress.com
Susan Cushman says
I pay close attention to the ones that include constructive criticism, and when more than one agent expresses the same concern about my work, I make use of their comments as I continue revising. And I always send a thank you note (usually by email)to the ones who spend a lot of time with my manuscript and write such helpful, personal replies.
Madison says
I think of rejections postitivly. After all, it’s visible proof that I’m trying to achieve my dream! š
Megoblocks says
At some point I realized I’m already rejected if I don’t send the query. Once that sank in, nothing bothered me.
Jan says
Well, as someone who just received a very nice rejection from Nathan, I dealt with it the same way I’ve dealt with all the others – I accept again that I am not J.K. Rowling. I look at it with new eyes, change what I think needs changed, and send it out again. Getting published will be nice, if it happens, but the pure act of writing, the creation of worlds and people by the arrangement of nouns, verbs, and adjectives on a blank sheet of paper, is the joy.
Mira says
I have a really tough time with rejection. Not query rejection, but critique about my writing. I’m a new writer, since I’ve only been writing about a year, and I’m just not confident enough yet.
Some humor I wrote got totally trashed in a writing workshop earlier this year. I mean really trashed. As in, don’t have children and pass on your genes trashed. I’ve had trouble writing on that piece since, even though I know it was much more about this 80 year old man, and his adversion to anything new…..but I’m still vulnerable.
Julia Cameron wrote about this – being very gentle with an emerging artist. It’s really easy to injure them, and make them go back into hiding.
I’m looking forward to when I’m more confident in my writing. Some of the humor I’ve written here, oddly enough, has helped to rebuild my confidence.
I think writing, when I’m feeling more fragile, in places where the stakes are lower – just messing around – is good.
Knowing when I need to protect myself from rejection – when I need to build my strength and focus on the work – is very important.
Mira says
Oh, I want to add that I’ve really enjoyed reading everyone’s comments. Some were really touching. I also learned some things
abc says
Nathan, I wish you could be on Goodread.com and then maybe you could let me be your friend and I could keep up with what you are reading. Cause that would be cool. Fo shizzle. Ah, dreams.
Rejection makes me cry. And then I move on.
abc says
I mean Goodreads.com Not Goodread. doi.
clindsay says
Y’all may find this blog entertaining, then. A guy who randomly posts his rejection letters and then rants on them.
Enjoy!
Colleen
Anonymous says
Colleen,
Seems a bit unprofessional to me. Not a great idea, IMHO.
rightonmom says
I’m blessed to belong to a small but mighty group of writers. We support each other through the highs and lows of the writing life. They understand.
Then I have my own cosmic explanation, which does soften the blow: It wasn’t meant to be. Yet.
Then I move on. And on. And on….
Anonymous says
I keep a running list of all the places where I have sent out my queries. I save all my rejection notices in a file, taking note of those who taken the time to write a note. I get back into the fray, but not before I send a THANK YOU note to the agent. Being polite counts even when it hurts.
Jenn says
I remember the law of large numbers. I figure at the average rates of acceptance, an average query could be sent around 2500 times before getting a request for a full. So if you’ve sent your query to less than 2500 agents and publishers and you’ve gotten a request for a full, you’re ahead of the game, statistically speaking.
Sheryl says
Gotta get back on the horse!
Whirlochre says
We can’t all like each other so rejection is a mandatory life event, be it in fiction writing or squishing slugs in your ears to commune with Cthulhu (if anyone else is into that).
So, though rejection always hurts and always feels personal, it’s no indication that you’re in any way special. Comes with the zillionfold replication of the whole homo sapiens thang.
So, decide how many valuable minutes of your time you’re prepared to stand in a corner bawling, then get on with it. The Gods have got more deserving wretches to save.
(As humans, however, we are allowed to be sympathetic from time to time…)
Anonymous says
wail in the mail
what if there was no fail
send all the agents to jail
but there may be no sale
wail to wail
it all returns
this ship doesn’t sail
O! tis poem too a fail
gabriellel66 says
Same way I deal with/celebrate everything: margaritas.
austere says
With Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.
And hurt silence.
Olivia says
It’s 7:45am in my world. I just received my e-mail notification of this blog, immediately came here, and there are already 200 comments ahead of me. That fact alone reminds me that this is an extremely tough business.
There’s about a million of us playing musical chairs with only five seats available.
Belinda Frisch says
I try to get rejections out of sight as quickly as possible, before they fester and eat away at my confidence.
I momentarily reflect on whether or not my submission was the best it could be and then head straight for the shredder!
If I see a way to improve the original submission, then I rework and resubmit, but it seems counterproductive to linger on what didn’t work when there’s so much that still might.