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Encountering rejection, particularly when it recurs often, is anything but enjoyable. A publisher is turning you down, giving a definite “Not interested.” Working in writing, I am well acquainted with setbacks. I started submitting manuscripts half a century past, upon completing my studies. Since then, I have had two novels declined, along with book ideas and countless essays. During the recent two decades, concentrating on op-eds, the rejections have multiplied. Regularly, I face a rejection every few days—amounting to in excess of 100 times a year. Overall, denials in my profession number in the thousands. At this point, I could have a advanced degree in rejection.

However, is this a complaining rant? Not at all. Since, now, at seven decades plus three, I have accepted being turned down.

In What Way Have I Accomplished This?

For perspective: By this stage, nearly everyone and their distant cousin has given me a thumbs-down. I haven’t kept score my success rate—that would be quite demoralizing.

For example: not long ago, a newspaper editor turned down 20 submissions one after another before accepting one. A few years ago, at least 50 publishing houses declined my memoir proposal before one gave the green light. A few years later, 25 representatives rejected a book pitch. A particular editor even asked that I submit potential guest essays less frequently.

My Steps of Setback

In my 20s, every no were painful. I took them personally. I believed my work was being turned down, but who I am.

Right after a piece was rejected, I would begin the phases of denial:

• Initially, shock. Why did this occur? How could editors be overlook my ability?
• Next, refusal to accept. Maybe it’s the incorrect submission? This must be an administrative error.
• Then, dismissal. What do editors know? Who appointed you to judge on my labours? You’re stupid and their outlet stinks. I refuse this refusal.
• Fourth, frustration at those who rejected me, followed by self-blame. Why would I put myself through this? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, negotiating (often accompanied by optimism). What does it require you to recognise me as a exceptional creator?
• Sixth, despair. I’m not talented. Worse, I’ll never be any good.

So it went through my 30s, 40s and 50s.

Excellent Company

Of course, I was in fine fellowship. Tales of writers whose work was originally rejected are plentiful. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Virtually all famous writer was originally turned down. Since they did overcome rejection, then perhaps I could, too. The sports icon was dropped from his high school basketball team. Many Presidents over the past six decades had previously lost races. Sylvester Stallone estimates that his movie pitch and desire to star were rejected repeatedly. He said rejection as an alarm to motivate me and keep moving, rather than retreat,” he has said.

The Seventh Stage

Then, when I entered my 60s and 70s, I achieved the seventh stage of rejection. Understanding. Currently, I grasp the many reasons why a publisher says no. Firstly, an editor may have just published a comparable article, or be planning one in progress, or just be considering a similar topic for another contributor.

Or, more discouragingly, my pitch is uninteresting. Or maybe the editor feels I don’t have the experience or standing to succeed. Perhaps is no longer in the market for the wares I am peddling. Maybe was busy and scanned my piece too fast to appreciate its quality.

Feel free call it an epiphany. Any work can be declined, and for any reason, and there is virtually nothing you can do about it. Some reasons for rejection are permanently beyond your control.

Your Responsibility

Some aspects are your fault. Admittedly, my ideas and work may sometimes be ill-conceived. They may lack relevance and appeal, or the point I am struggling to articulate is not compelling enough. Or I’m being too similar. Maybe something about my writing style, notably commas, was unacceptable.

The point is that, in spite of all my decades of effort and rejection, I have achieved published in many places. I’ve written several titles—my first when I was in my fifties, my second, a autobiography, at retirement age—and over 1,000 articles. My writings have been published in publications big and little, in regional, worldwide platforms. My debut commentary was published decades ago—and I have now submitted to many places for 50 years.

Still, no major hits, no author events at major stores, no spots on TV programs, no speeches, no honors, no accolades, no international recognition, and no Presidential Medal. But I can better accept no at 73, because my, small achievements have softened the blows of my setbacks. I can afford to be philosophical about it all today.

Educational Setbacks

Rejection can be helpful, but only if you pay attention to what it’s attempting to show. If not, you will almost certainly just keep interpreting no’s the wrong way. What insights have I learned?

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