The Art of Rejection
February 5, 2010
“This manuscript of yours that has just come back from another editor is a precious package. Don’t consider it rejected. Consider that you’ve addressed it ‘to the editor who can appreciate my work’ and it has simply come back stamped ‘Not at this address’. Just keep looking for the right address.” – Barbara Kingsolver
Writers compare rejection notices like veterans compare war wounds. And that’s appropriate, I think. The two are very similar, evidences of battles not necessarily won or lost or even stalemated, but simply fought. Both begin as a bitter pain that seems unendurable but, with hope and God and perseverance, may become points of pride later.
See this? we say. Got that one three years ago. Hurt like hell, too. Doesn’t really bother me much anymore though, except when it rains.
For the past dozen years or so I’ve kept my rejections in a file folder that’s shoved into the bottom of an old wooden chest in a corner of my office. The chest is both latched and locked, and there are approximately thirty pounds of books stacked on top.
I suppose there is some psychological explanation as to why I keep that folder as far away and inaccessible as possible. I’ve thought about it. The truth is that I still can’t bear to read some of them and still can’t throw away any of them, and both for the same reason—I fear I will lose a little bit of myself in the process.
However.
Last night I took those thirty pounds of books off my chest, unlocked and unlatched it, and dug out my folder. For the simple reason that there are times in a person’s life when he must pause in his forward movement just to see how far down the path he’s come.
I counted fifty-seven. Fifty-seven letters and emails that chronicled a writer who began as a veritable literary idiot then progressed to a rank amateur and then hardened veteran in need of a miracle. There they were, all of them. A picture of my dreams.
Every writer knows rejections come in three different classes. There are the standard form-letter ones, the more personal ones, and, if you’re especially fortunate, ones upon which an actual living human has scrawled a few actual words with an actual pen.
I had a lot of the first, some of the second, and a few of the third.
Some were blunt. I found one in the stack that was simply a return of my query with “No Thanx” scrawled at the top.
There was lot of “We’re sorry, but this book does not fit our publishing interests.” A testament to my lack of proper research.
One of the handwritten comments said, “You are an excellent writer, but unfortunately our calendar for the year is full.” That one got me through another couple months of No Thank yous.
But then I got this one from a newspaper editor: “I cannot in good faith accept this query. To be honest, you’re just not a good writer.”
That one? That one killed me. I quit writing for about three months after reading that.
Some said I was too country. Others that I wasn’t country enough. Some said my words were too simple and my thoughts too erratic, and others said my thoughts were too simple and my words too erratic.
I wasn’t experienced enough.
My platform was lacking.
And on. And on. And on.
F.X. Toole, whose short story Million Dollar Baby became the movie of the same name, gave up writing for boxing when he was a relatively young man. A broken jaw, he said, hurt less than a rejection.
I understand what he meant by that.
And I also understand that the above quote by Barbara Kingsolver sounds wonderful in theory but very, very hard in application. Because it doesn’t matter how hard we try to convince ourselves otherwise, we’ll always fight the temptation to see a rejection as not simply a pass on our book, but a pass on our life.
Go to your local bookstore and you’ll see entire shelves dedicated to the art of getting published. And while many of those books are worthy of attention, the secret is much simpler. Much better.
Write your book. Make it as good as it can be.
And after that, send your queries.
And then, after all that, do one more thing. The most important thing. The one thing you must do no matter how many rejections you get and no matter how discouraged you become.
Always try one more time.
***
And speaking of trying one more time…
Congratulations to Amy Sorrells for getting “The Call” from Rachelle Gardner of WordServe Literary. I’m honored to be in such good company.
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38 Responses to “The Art of Rejection”
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I’m a writer whose first novel, Snow Day, will be published by FaithWords in 2010.
But don’t let that fool you. I’m just as confused as anyone.
And that is fine with me, because the great thing about wandering around in the fog is that you never know what you might run into.
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Love this. Very, very much.
Ahh, Billy, good to be back enjoying your blog posts. This is so encouraging. Can’t believe anyone would say you weren’t a good writer. Awesome.
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This spoke life giving words directly into my life as a whole. The cry of our hearts is to be accepted and valued. Thanks.
Absolutely 100% agree. I, too, have all of my rejection slips, and I’m a lot older than you, which means I probably have a lot more–enough to wallpaper my office might not be pushing it. I’ve kept them because they remind me of how hard I’ve worked, and how persistent I’ve been and how far I’ve come. “Always try one more time.” That’s great advice.
True that.
I only have one actual letter, the rest are all emails. I have a nice folder of my own that I keep these queries in that I apparently sent to the wrong address.
Thanks, Billy.
Billy, your post came on a day that I received a rejection — one of those that really seemed like it was going to be the right fit, but apparently wasn’t. There was a hint of kindness in the response. It wasn’t form, but it wasn’t hand-written explanation either. This followed another just a week ago. That was another one that really felt right. I’ve been doing my research, and the options are narrowing. It’s becoming harder to believe in myself. That said, I really do believe what you say here. I’ve convinced God has a plan, that I didn’t write simply for practice, that my story will someday find its home. In the meantime, grace will get me through to the next, and today, your post was part of that. Blessings…and may your rejection pile’s rising now halt.
I haven’t started the process yet but your words are a balm to me. I’ll hold this one close and remember it when I want to lay down my quill.
Your words are neither simple nor erratic. Thanks for this uplifting post today, Billy. I’m out on submission. No rejections yet from any publishers….but this waiting thing is driving me just a wee bit restless.
Very Inspiring always Try one more time. Not many people can do that. VERY GOOD advice…no matter what you do in life.
This is a journey I haven’t yet started. Part of the appeal of blogging is being your own editor and publisher.
But I suspect I’m gonna need to start on the path. Good to know that even good writers get rejections.
The best rejection I ever got was one where the editor had started marking typos in red pencil then came to a point where he stabbed his pencil completely through all pages the manuscript four times.
At least I knew he’d read it.
I guess I’m a little odd, but I framed my first rejection letter & my second rejection (which came scrawled on the back of a business card), too. I framed them and prominently displayed them in my dorm room while I was in college. Why? To remind me that rejection wouldn’t kill me. It was just two people’s opinions out of the veritable plethora of people in the world.
And Billy, you got 57 rejections, but I’ll bet now you can count way more than 57 people that think you’re wonderful and talented.
So glad you kept trying!
Wonderful post. Thoughtful, evocative writing. Thanks for sharing.
ps- I’ve had 36 novels published and still get rejections and they still sting but not enough to keep me from the keyboard.
Billy, thanks so much for your post. It’s always good to hear from those who fought the good fight and made it. It gives all the rest of us encouragement to press forward. And you never know when a comment will also give practical advice, which one of yours did for me today.
One of my favorite stories of rejection is about a TV writer/producer who was already successful in what he did. Then one night, an idea for a new show got him so excited that he got out of bed and wrote a treatment.
What he thought was his best work ever was called revolting, worst idea for a TV show ever, and almost got him fired from a job for even mentioning it. So he put it in his drawer and quit talking about it.
A few years later, he was requested to make a presentation to a struggling network. Since he was exploring an academic career and really didn’t want in that line of work again, he said the only way he do it was to present the idea that so many hated.
Except this time, the head of the network thought it was the best TV show idea he ever heard. All of his colleagues disagreed, but the show was put into production anyway.
The swan song of this show’s four-year run was at the time the most viewed TV episode in history, a record that has only been eclipsed twice, by two shows you may have heard of: M*A*S*H* and Dallas.
That show was The Fugitive.
The lesson is, never give up on an idea you feel strongly about. Because for a time, you may be the only person that does.
ACK! I just saw your note about me on here! Talk about honored to be in company . . . thank you, Billy!
[...] more entertaining stories about “the call,” and the writing journey, check out Billy Coffey, Richard Mabry, Jody Hedlund, and Katie [...]
Spot on, Billy.
It’s a crazy road, isn’t it? It doesn’t stop when you get an agent either, huh? Great post. I agree–Write your book. Make it as good as it can be. Then query.
Write on, my friend!
Really, really like this.
“Sometimes you hear a voice through
“the door, calling, . . .
“This turning toward what you deeply love
“saves you.”
~ Rumi (tr. Coleman Barks)
The above is the answer to what makes you the writer you are; it’s the reason you keep the rejection letters and reflect on them, and then get down to writing again.
Glad you stuck with it Billy. And just call all those rejections character building.
57… henry heinz liked that number.
Thanks for your honesty here. I received at least 50 rejections on the way to getting my first book published, and that’s not counting the hundreds I’ve received on articles and queries. I still get them regularly–dispelling the myth that writers with agents and book contracts don’t get rejected. It’s all part of the process, but I’ll never like it. This year, though, God told me to replace the word “rejection” with “redirection.” That helped!
Billy, beautifully written post. Great timing for me and other writing masochists out there. I’m taking it to the chin, losing writing contests and feeling as though I’m spinning my wheels. So, so hard not to take this business personally. But it IS personal – one agent will love your work, another will hate it. Subjective as it gets. Some of it is the planets aligning, too, where one tired editor or agent will give you a chance. And you’ve got to be ready when it happens. So we return to our keyboards, nursing our wounds. We’re like soldiers, plodding ahead when there are no guarantees, the odds are great and the darkness seems to last forever. But just knowing other writers feel identically to me, (at my lowest point) keeps me fueled. Thanks again.
What good advice, Billy (said a little breathlessly and with hope renewed yet again). Still waiting here. But still trying too. This encourages. Thank you.
This wrenched my heart. It is applicable not only to the subject you have written on but to many other aspects in life. I related to it regarding relationships, and the search of a job. Sometimes I want to give up on the job search front. Thank you for those last encouraging words. It will happen.
Moving forward can be wearisome at times… thanks for the encouragement!
Thanks for putting this out there. I am working on finishing up my first manuscript and to be quite honest, I’m scared to death.
I’m scared of that box. What I’m writing about could be pretty controversial, but I believe in it so much that I will bookmark this post. When I start sending it to try and draw some interest, and I start getting those letters and emails, I will come back to this post. I’ll read it again. And then I’ll try one more time.
Seriously, thanks for this post.
This is great, Billy. And timely — I got my first rejection letter today (for my children’s book). But in that same mailbox was a magazine with one of my essays. So it’s yin and yang, I suppose.
Thanks for sharing the ups and downs of your experience and offering up your encouragement.
-elizabeth
GREAT POST!
I love this! You are the best! My most hurtful rejection came from an agent who deemed my writing, “okay.” Okay? Okay?! Jeez, kill me with the milk-toast comment why don’t you? I cried for like 6 hours straight. And then it became great fodder for my blog. Still writing.
I love your honesty here…it really does help.
War wounds. I hadn’t thought of that, but what a perfect analogy. Of the query letters I sent out, several agents preferred not to respond, some who did weren’t interested, two were enthusiastic and definitely interested. The day one of these agents responded, I also got a letter from the editor of a small publishing company. The fact that she had taken the time to write it was amazing, but she ripped my heart out and gnawed on it like a vampire going straight to the source.
Her evaluation of the chapters I sent her was right, although it took me awhile to get over the dizzing effects of a right hook to see it. I learned so much from that painful letter. I pulled the book from the agent’s consideration and revised it. I’ll be sending it back to her next week. After that, it’s entirely in God’s hands.
Wow. I really, really needed to hear this today. It’s been a bad writing week. By bad, I mean: too many rejections too close together. My friend sent me your blog, and I think that by tomorrow I’ll be able to keep going. Thank you for your words.
Billy, that’s what is called “paying it forward”.
To work hard at what you do until you find success. And to pass your wisdom on to others who are hoping to do the same.
Thank you for the inspiration and support.
Warm Wishes, Billy!
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