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Facing refusal, notably when it occurs frequently, is far from pleasant. Someone is declining your work, delivering a definite “No.” Working in writing, I am familiar with rejection. I commenced submitting manuscripts five decades ago, upon finishing university. From that point, I have had several works declined, along with book ideas and many short stories. In the last two decades, focusing on personal essays, the rejections have only increased. In a typical week, I receive a rejection every few days—adding up to in excess of 100 times a year. Overall, rejections throughout my life exceed a thousand. At this point, I could claim a PhD in handling no’s.

But, does this seem like a complaining rant? Not at all. Since, finally, at 73 years old, I have come to terms with rejection.

By What Means Did I Achieve It?

A bit of background: Now, nearly every person and their distant cousin has rejected me. I’ve never tracked my acceptance statistics—it would be quite demoralizing.

As an illustration: not long ago, an editor turned down 20 pieces in a row before saying yes to one. In 2016, over 50 editors rejected my book idea before a single one gave the green light. Subsequently, 25 literary agents declined a book pitch. One editor suggested that I send potential guest essays less frequently.

The Steps of Setback

Starting out, all rejections were painful. I took them personally. It seemed like my creation being rejected, but myself.

No sooner a piece was rejected, I would begin the “seven stages of rejection”:

• First, shock. Why did this occur? Why would editors be overlook my talent?
• Second, denial. Surely you’ve rejected the mistake? It has to be an oversight.
• Then, rejection of the rejection. What can editors know? Who made you to decide on my labours? You’re stupid and the magazine is subpar. I deny your no.
• Fourth, anger at those who rejected me, followed by anger at myself. Why do I do this to myself? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, pleading (preferably mixed with delusion). What will it take you to recognise me as a exceptional creator?
• Sixth, depression. I’m no good. Additionally, I can never become accomplished.

So it went over many years.

Notable Examples

Naturally, I was in fine company. Accounts of authors whose work was originally rejected are numerous. The author of Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was initially spurned. Because they managed to overcome rejection, then maybe I could, too. The basketball legend was cut from his school team. Many US presidents over the recent history had earlier failed in campaigns. Sylvester Stallone says that his Rocky screenplay and attempt to star were rejected numerous times. “I take rejection as an alarm to rouse me and persevere, instead of giving up,” he remarked.

The Final Phase

Later, when I entered my 60s and 70s, I reached the seventh stage of setback. Acceptance. Today, I more clearly see the multiple factors why an editor says no. For starters, an editor may have already featured a comparable article, or have one in the pipeline, or be thinking about something along the same lines for someone else.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my idea is not appealing. Or maybe the editor feels I lack the credentials or reputation to be suitable. Or is no longer in the market for the wares I am submitting. Maybe was too distracted and reviewed my piece hastily to see its quality.

Go ahead call it an awakening. Anything can be turned down, and for whatever cause, and there is virtually not much you can do about it. Some explanations for rejection are forever beyond your control.

Within Control

Others are your fault. Let’s face it, my pitches and submissions may occasionally be poorly thought out. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the idea I am struggling to articulate is not compelling enough. Or I’m being too similar. Or a part about my grammar, notably dashes, was offensive.

The point is that, regardless of all my decades of effort and setbacks, I have managed to get published in many places. I’ve written several titles—the initial one when I was in my fifties, the next, a personal story, at older—and more than a thousand pieces. These works have appeared in publications large and small, in diverse outlets. My first op-ed ran when I was 26—and I have now written to many places for five decades.

Still, no major hits, no book signings in bookshops, no appearances on talk shows, no speeches, no honors, no Pulitzers, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can better take rejection at 73, because my, admittedly modest successes have softened the jolts of my setbacks. I can now be thoughtful about it all at this point.

Valuable Setbacks

Setback can be instructive, but only if you heed what it’s trying to teach. If not, you will almost certainly just keep taking rejection all wrong. What teachings have I acquired?

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