There can be few writers who haven't had a rejection at some point in their careers, and I've had a fair few myself. How, I wondered, do my fellow novelpointsofview contributors deal with a thanks, but no thanks, letter?
Here's what Jennie Bohnet has to say:- 'It's not personal, it's business'. I've lost count of the number of times I've muttered that famous quote from The Godfather to myself in an effort to keep yet another rejection in perspective. Except - when you're a writer - it does feel personal and it's extremely hard to accept that something you've slaved over for hours, tweaking, editing and making it the best you can, only to find that some unknown editor has decided it's not good enough for publication. Self-esteem and confidence fly out of the door at hurricane speed the minute the 'thanks but no thanks' email arrives and depression can quickly hurtle through the open door. It's no wonder so many writers drink! These days there are a couple of rules in our house regarding rejections. I'm allowed to shout and scream over the unfairness of a short story rejection for an hour if I really must. Then I can either put the story in the bottom drawer or I can work on it and send it back out again. Afer all a rejection can be an opportunity for another market. Novel rejections are much harder to deal with. A lot of time and energy have been invested in writing eighty thousand words over several months. I give myself a whole day to sulk and scream and despair of ever writing another word that will be publishable. I stay out of my office, go for a walk, drink wine, and try to stop the black dog of depression getting past the door. The next day it's a case of man-up and get over it. Approaching another publisher and selling a rejected novel that becomes a bestseller like my latest 'Villa of Sun and Secrets' has done is, of course, the best boost ever to dealing with and getting over a rejection. So I'll leave you with a positive picture!
And now Rae's take on things:- I may have worked on, or re-drafted, and completed three novels, but I've yet to send one to an agent or publisher. So I can honestly say I've never had a novel rejected, but perhaps far worse is that I've never tried. (That's a whole separate post) However, I have entered short story competitions, only to realise when the announcement date of the winner sails by without the congratulatory email lighting up my inbox, that, this time, first place wasn't for me. So what do I do then? If the winning story or stories are online then I like to read them, trying to learn what I can from their writing. But occasionally, perhaps when family life also throws a few curve balls in my direction, I can become despondent believing I will never be a 'proper' writer. And that's when I re-read a stash of notes I was given by friends. Several years ago I was lucky enough to bag a spot on a course with a band of local writers who have become my go-to support. On the final day of the course we were asked to write something positive we had gained from spending time with each of our fellow scribes. So when my writing mojo goes walk-about, I dig out those crumpled scraps of paper and think of the warm friendships I've made through writing. And that reminds me that what I have gained by being part of this community is more special than winning any prize!
This is how Kath McGurl looks at things:- I began my writing career with short stories for women's magazines. Rejections were frequent and numerous so I had no choice but to 'deal with them'. I kept detailed records of what story I had sent where, and when, so when the rejections arrived there was always a bit of admin to do. And then I'd consider whether the story would be suitable for some other market, maybe if I tweaked it a little ... or was it time to shrug my shoulders and say well, this one's not right, give it a rest. Acceptances were much more fun and generally involved a bottle of wine to celebrate. After maybe ten years of writing short stories I moved onto novels. Of course there were loads of rejections initially - often they weren't explicit rejections but simply a 'if you don't hear back in twelve weeks assume it's a no'. Again, detailed records helped me keep track. Finally I landed myself a two book deal, and ever since then I've managed to get three further book deals from the same publisher. So I'm in that happy place where needing to cope with rejections is in the past (and long may that continue!). When I started writing a very wise person told me that rejections mean one thing and one thing only - they are proof that you got to the point where you were able to submit a piece of work. And that's no mean feat. So really, they should be celebrated as simply a step along the way.
Jennifer Young sees it like this:- When Linda asked us to contribute our thoughts on how to deal with rejection,it took me ten minutes to stop my bitter laughter and think about it. People actually manage to deal with rejections???!!!! This is a blog post I definitely want to read. Rejection is a mian part, possibly the main part, of being a writer. It happens all the time. Sometimes it's the ringing silences, weeks or months long, of a submission never acknowledged. Sometimes it's an email, whether blunt or charming or (usually) in standard format. They didn't love it enough. The list is full. It's not my genre. They loved it but ... And rejection takes other forms too. It's when readers don't like your book. It's when it doesn't sell. I have to be honest I don't deal with rejection well. I'm not one of those fighters who hurl themselves back in the fray shouting 'I'll ******* show you!', or someone who knows every agent or publisher who ever rejected them and memorises every word they used, just so they can drop it into conversation with those poor unfortunates once the Booker prize is in the bag. The only way I can get by with rejection is ignoring it. I read the emails once and then file them in a place I never revisit. I never check Amazon ratings and I'm training myself out of an obsession with reviews. If I tried to carry the weight of rejection it would break me. So I don't.
Jennifer didn't provide a picture to go with her comments so I've decided, that as she's had more than a few acceptances along the way that she deserves some celebratory champagne.
Victoria Cornwall's very honest response to my question follows:- It's been a while since I submitted to an agent or publisher, but the memory of their rejections are still fresh in my mind. Anger ... frustration ... despair, and a depressing nausea as my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. It's hard to deal with rejection whatever form it takes, and at first I didn't deal with it very well. The rejections almost crushed my motivation to be a published author as I believed the barriers in my way were insurmountable. Eventually I decided that I shouldn't let a stranger dictate the path my life would take. A stranger, I might add, who has their own agenda, pressures and preferrred genre, none of which have anything to do with my skill as a writer. So I decided to take their rejection, turn it around and use it to benefit me. I used the anger, frustration, and depressing nausea to motivate me to get published by a traditional publisher and prove them all wrong. So I dusted myself off and kept going, picking up tips and, hopefully, improving along the way. A published author is a stubborn writer who didn't give up.
And now me. I can probably knock all the others into a cocked hat with the number of rejections I've received over the years. Fortunately, I was given a very valuable lesson in rejection at an early age. When I was about ten years old there was a fund-raising competition at Sunday School, the prize for which was to be centre stage at the presentation of collected funds. I made cakes and sold them at the gate, I badgered neighbours. I did jobs for anyone who would pay me sixpence for doing them. I sold off unwanted toys. And I raised loads. We children compared tallies. I was well in the lead. But then ... Pamela said she wasn't doing anything because her dad was going to put some money in. He did. £20. A fortune back then. So Pamela got to be the one in the fancy frock, centre stage. I wailed and wailed to my dad - 'It's not fair, it's not fair'. And he said,'No sweetheart, it isn't fair but life's not fair and the sooner you understand and deal with that the better it will be for you'. So I did. And generally I still do. Or as my husband puts it,'It's a bit like ice-skating competitions, and Strictly Come Dancing' ... it's only someone's opinion. All subjective.' When I first joined the Romantic Novelists' Association's New Writers' Scheme my first submission got a glowing report from the reader and went to a top agent. I was on my way! Well, maybe not just yet, because she didn't take me on. At the first RNA party I attended I was introdcued to a big name writer (who for the purposes of this exercise will remain anonymous) who asked what I was writing. So I told her I'd just had a 'thanks but no thanks' letter. 'Oh, don't let that get to you, darling,' she said. 'I've had loads. And what I do to get over them is go out and buy a pair of teeteringly high-heeled shoes, impossible to walk in, but glorious. I call them my 'fuck-me' shoes.' Sometimes only that word will do in writing so I'm leaving it. I've never bought shoes because I don't think I could cope with the follow-on these days .... but I do have a very nice collection of earrings! Onwards, ladies and gentlemen!
