Accepting Denial: Insights from Half a Century of Writing Journey

Encountering rejection, particularly when it occurs frequently, is not a great feeling. A publisher is saying no, delivering a clear “Nope.” Being an author, I am familiar with rejection. I started proposing articles five decades ago, upon college graduation. Over the years, I have had multiple books turned down, along with nonfiction proposals and countless short stories. In the last two decades, concentrating on commentary, the denials have grown more frequent. In a typical week, I face a rejection frequently—amounting to more than 100 each year. In total, denials in my profession run into thousands. By now, I could have a advanced degree in rejection.

So, does this seem like a complaining outburst? Not at all. As, at last, at the age of 73, I have accepted rejection.

How Did I Achieve It?

Some context: By this stage, almost each individual and their relatives has said no. I’ve never tracked my acceptance statistics—that would be very discouraging.

As an illustration: not long ago, an editor rejected 20 submissions consecutively before accepting one. In 2016, no fewer than 50 publishing houses vetoed my manuscript before someone accepted it. A few years later, 25 literary agents rejected a nonfiction book proposal. One editor suggested that I submit articles only once a month.

The Steps of Rejection

In my 20s, every no stung. I felt attacked. I believed my work was being turned down, but who I am.

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

• First, surprise. How could this happen? Why would they be blind to my skill?
• Next, denial. Maybe they rejected the wrong person? It has to be an mistake.
• Third, dismissal. What can they know? Who appointed you to judge on my efforts? It’s nonsense and the magazine is subpar. I refuse this refusal.
• Fourth, irritation at the rejecters, then frustration with me. Why would I do this to myself? Could I be a martyr?
• Fifth, pleading (often mixed with optimism). What does it require you to recognise me as a exceptional creator?
• Then, sadness. I’m no good. What’s more, I can never become accomplished.

I experienced this for decades.

Notable Company

Naturally, I was in fine company. Accounts of writers whose manuscripts was initially declined are plentiful. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every renowned author was initially spurned. If they could succeed despite no’s, then maybe I could, too. Michael Jordan was dropped from his high school basketball team. Many American leaders over the recent history had previously lost elections. Sylvester Stallone estimates that his Rocky screenplay and bid to star were declined repeatedly. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to rouse me and keep moving, not backing down,” he stated.

The Final Phase

As time passed, as I reached my 60s and 70s, I achieved the last step of setback. Understanding. Today, I grasp the various causes why an editor says no. For starters, an reviewer may have just published a like work, or have something underway, or just be contemplating that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, more discouragingly, my idea is uninteresting. Or maybe the editor feels I don’t have the experience or stature to fit the bill. Or is no longer in the field for the wares I am peddling. Or was busy and scanned my submission hastily to recognize its quality.

You can call it an epiphany. Anything can be declined, and for whatever cause, and there is virtually not much you can do about it. Many rationales for denial are always not up to you.

Within Control

Additional reasons are your fault. Let’s face it, my proposals may sometimes be flawed. They may be irrelevant and resonance, or the idea I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or an aspect about my grammar, notably commas, was offensive.

The essence is that, regardless of all my years of exertion and rejection, I have achieved recognized. I’ve written two books—my first when I was 51, my second, a memoir, at 65—and more than a thousand pieces. My writings have featured in publications major and minor, in diverse platforms. My first op-ed was published decades ago—and I have now submitted to various outlets for five decades.

However, no blockbusters, no signings in bookshops, no spots on popular shows, no Ted Talks, no book awards, no accolades, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can better handle no at 73, because my, admittedly modest accomplishments have softened the stings of my frequent denials. I can now be philosophical about it all at this point.

Valuable Setbacks

Denial can be instructive, but only if you heed what it’s attempting to show. Or else, you will almost certainly just keep taking rejection all wrong. So what insights have I acquired?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What