🔗 Share this article

Encountering refusal, notably when it recurs often, is not a great feeling. Someone is turning you down, delivering a firm “Not interested.” Being an author, I am familiar with setbacks. I began submitting articles 50 years back, upon completing my studies. Since then, I have had multiple books declined, along with article pitches and countless short stories. During the recent score of years, focusing on op-eds, the denials have grown more frequent. Regularly, I receive a setback every few days—totaling over 100 annually. Overall, rejections throughout my life exceed a thousand. Today, I could have a advanced degree in handling no’s.

However, is this a complaining rant? Not at all. Because, finally, at 73 years old, I have accepted rejection.

By What Means Did I Achieve It?

A bit of background: At this point, just about every person and their distant cousin has rejected me. I haven’t kept score my win-lose ratio—doing so would be quite demoralizing.

For example: not long ago, a newspaper editor nixed 20 pieces in a row before accepting one. Back in 2016, over 50 editors rejected my book idea before a single one gave the green light. Subsequently, 25 representatives rejected a nonfiction book proposal. A particular editor suggested that I send potential guest essays less often.

The Steps of Setback

Starting out, every no stung. I felt attacked. It seemed like my writing being rejected, but me as a person.

Right after a submission was rejected, I would start the process of setback:

• Initially, shock. What went wrong? How could these people be blind to my skill?
• Second, denial. Certainly they rejected the wrong person? It has to be an administrative error.
• Third, dismissal. What do any of you know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my efforts? They’re foolish and their outlet is poor. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, anger at them, followed by frustration with me. Why would I do this to myself? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, pleading (preferably mixed with false hope). What does it require you to see me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Sixth, sadness. I’m no good. What’s more, I’ll never be any good.

I experienced this for decades.

Notable Precedents

Naturally, I was in fine company. Stories of creators whose work was at first rejected are plentiful. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Almost every writer of repute was first rejected. Since they did succeed despite no’s, then perhaps I could, too. The basketball legend was cut from his school team. Many Presidents over the recent history had previously lost races. The actor-writer says that his Rocky screenplay and bid to appear were rejected numerous times. For him, denial as an alarm to wake me up and keep moving, rather than retreat,” he remarked.

Acceptance

Then, as I reached my later years, I achieved the final phase of rejection. Understanding. Currently, I more clearly see the various causes why a publisher says no. For starters, an reviewer may have already featured a comparable article, or be planning one in the pipeline, or just be thinking about something along the same lines for another contributor.

Or, unfortunately, my submission is of limited interest. Or maybe the evaluator believes I am not qualified or standing to succeed. Perhaps isn’t in the field for the work I am submitting. Or was busy and read my piece hastily to recognize its quality.

Go ahead call it an awakening. Any work can be declined, and for any reason, and there is pretty much not much you can do about it. Some explanations for rejection are permanently not up to you.

Within Control

Others are your fault. Let’s face it, my proposals may occasionally be ill-conceived. They may be irrelevant and appeal, or the idea I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or something about my grammar, especially commas, was offensive.

The essence is that, in spite of all my years of exertion and rejection, I have managed to get published in many places. I’ve written several titles—the initial one when I was 51, my second, a autobiography, at 65—and more than numerous essays. These works have featured in publications big and little, in diverse sources. An early piece was published decades ago—and I have now contributed to many places for half a century.

Yet, no blockbusters, no book signings in bookshops, no features on popular shows, no Ted Talks, no book awards, no Pulitzers, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can better accept rejection at 73, because my, admittedly modest achievements have eased the stings of my many rejections. I can now be thoughtful about it all today.

Instructive Rejection

Rejection can be helpful, but provided that you pay attention to what it’s trying to teach. Otherwise, you will probably just keep seeing denial all wrong. So what insights have I learned?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What