🔗 Share this article

Experiencing denial, notably when it happens repeatedly, is not a great feeling. An editor is declining your work, giving a definite “Nope.” Working in writing, I am no stranger to rejection. I started pitching articles five decades ago, just after finishing university. From that point, I have had multiple books turned down, along with article pitches and countless essays. During the recent 20 years, specializing in personal essays, the denials have grown more frequent. Regularly, I face a setback multiple times weekly—amounting to over 100 each year. Overall, rejections over my career number in the thousands. By now, I could claim a master’s in rejection.

So, is this a self-pitying outburst? Not at all. Since, finally, at the age of 73, I have embraced rejection.

By What Means Did I Achieve This?

Some context: At this point, almost every person and their distant cousin has given me a thumbs-down. I’ve never kept score my success rate—doing so would be deeply dispiriting.

As an illustration: recently, a newspaper editor turned down 20 articles one after another before approving one. In 2016, at least 50 publishing houses vetoed my manuscript before someone accepted it. Subsequently, 25 literary agents rejected a project. An editor suggested that I send potential guest essays less often.

My Phases of Setback

Starting out, each denial stung. I took them personally. It was not just my work being rejected, but who I am.

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

• Initially, surprise. What went wrong? Why would editors be ignore my talent?
• Second, denial. Surely you’ve rejected the wrong person? It has to be an mistake.
• Third, dismissal. What do any of you know? Who made you to decide on my labours? It’s nonsense and your publication stinks. I reject your rejection.
• After that, irritation at the rejecters, followed by anger at myself. Why do I subject myself to this? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, pleading (often mixed with optimism). How can I convince you to see me as a exceptional creator?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Additionally, I’ll never be accomplished.

This continued for decades.

Notable Company

Of course, I was in excellent company. Stories of writers whose work was initially declined are plentiful. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was originally turned down. Since they did persevere, then maybe I could, too. The basketball legend was cut from his youth squad. The majority of Presidents over the last 60 years had previously lost races. The filmmaker estimates that his Rocky screenplay and desire to appear were declined numerous times. For him, denial as someone blowing a bugle to motivate me and keep moving, not backing down,” he remarked.

Acceptance

Then, when I entered my later years, I entered the seventh stage of setback. Peace. Currently, I more clearly see the various causes why an editor says no. To begin with, an reviewer may have just published a similar piece, or have one in the pipeline, or be contemplating that idea for someone else.

Or, less promisingly, my pitch is uninteresting. Or maybe the reader thinks I don’t have the experience or stature to fit the bill. Perhaps is no longer in the business for the wares I am offering. Maybe was busy and scanned my piece too quickly to recognize its value.

You can call it an awakening. Anything can be turned down, and for whatever cause, and there is virtually little you can do about it. Many reasons for rejection are forever out of your hands.

Manageable Factors

Some aspects are under your control. Admittedly, my proposals may occasionally be flawed. They may lack relevance and impact, or the message I am trying to express is not compelling enough. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or an aspect about my punctuation, particularly commas, was annoying.

The essence is that, despite all my long career and setbacks, I have managed to get recognized. I’ve authored several titles—the initial one when I was in my fifties, my second, a memoir, at older—and over 1,000 articles. These works have been published in newspapers big and little, in local, national and global outlets. My first op-ed ran when I was 26—and I have now contributed to that publication for 50 years.

However, no blockbusters, no author events at major stores, no spots on talk shows, no Ted Talks, no book awards, no Pulitzers, no Nobel Prize, and no medal. But I can better accept rejection at 73, because my, humble accomplishments have softened the stings of my setbacks. I can afford to be philosophical about it all now.

Instructive Rejection

Rejection can be helpful, but when you heed what it’s indicating. Or else, you will probably just keep taking rejection incorrectly. So what lessons have I gained?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What