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Encountering refusal, notably when it happens repeatedly, is far from pleasant. A publisher is saying no, delivering a definite “Not interested.” Working in writing, I am no stranger to setbacks. I started submitting manuscripts five decades ago, just after college graduation. From that point, I have had several works turned down, along with article pitches and numerous essays. Over the past score of years, focusing on op-eds, the denials have only increased. In a typical week, I receive a setback every few days—totaling in excess of 100 annually. Cumulatively, rejections over my career number in the thousands. Today, I might as well have a advanced degree in rejection.

However, is this a self-pitying tirade? Far from it. Since, finally, at 73 years old, I have come to terms with rejection.

In What Way Have I Accomplished This?

A bit of background: At this point, nearly every person and their distant cousin has given me a thumbs-down. I haven’t tracked my win-lose ratio—that would be deeply dispiriting.

A case in point: recently, an editor turned down 20 submissions one after another before accepting one. Back in 2016, no fewer than 50 editors rejected my book idea before a single one approved it. Later on, 25 representatives declined a book pitch. One editor suggested that I submit my work only once a month.

The Steps of Rejection

When I was younger, all rejections were painful. It felt like a personal affront. It was not just my writing was being turned down, but who I am.

Right after a manuscript was rejected, I would begin the process of setback:

• Initially, surprise. What went wrong? How could these people be blind to my skill?
• Second, refusal to accept. Surely they rejected the incorrect submission? Perhaps it’s an administrative error.
• Third, dismissal. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to judge on my work? It’s nonsense and your publication stinks. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, irritation at those who rejected me, then anger at myself. Why would I do this to myself? Could I be a martyr?
• Subsequently, pleading (often accompanied by optimism). What does it require you to recognise me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Then, despair. I lack skill. Additionally, I’ll never be any good.

I experienced this for decades.

Great Precedents

Certainly, I was in fine company. Accounts of writers whose books was originally rejected are plentiful. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was initially spurned. Because they managed to persevere, then maybe I could, too. The sports icon was cut from his high school basketball team. The majority of American leaders over the last 60 years had earlier failed in campaigns. Sylvester Stallone says that his movie pitch and attempt to star were declined numerous times. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to rouse me and get going, not backing down,” he has said.

The Final Phase

As time passed, when I entered my later years, I reached the last step of setback. Peace. Today, I more clearly see the various causes why a publisher says no. To begin with, an publisher may have recently run a comparable article, or have something underway, or be considering that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, less promisingly, my idea is not appealing. Or the reader feels I don’t have the experience or stature to fit the bill. Perhaps isn’t in the market for the work I am peddling. Or was busy and reviewed my work too fast to see its quality.

You can call it an epiphany. Anything can be turned down, and for numerous reasons, and there is almost not much you can do about it. Some reasons for denial are forever out of your hands.

Manageable Factors

Others are your fault. Admittedly, my ideas and work may occasionally be poorly thought out. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the point I am struggling to articulate is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being obviously derivative. Or something about my writing style, notably commas, was unacceptable.

The point is that, despite all my decades of effort and setbacks, I have managed to get widely published. I’ve published multiple works—the initial one when I was middle-aged, my second, a memoir, at 65—and over numerous essays. My writings have appeared in newspapers big and little, in regional, worldwide platforms. An early piece ran in my twenties—and I have now contributed to various outlets for 50 years.

Still, no blockbusters, no book signings in bookshops, no features on talk shows, no presentations, no honors, no Pulitzers, no Nobel Prize, and no national honor. But I can better take no at this stage, because my, humble successes have cushioned the jolts of my frequent denials. I can now be philosophical about it all today.

Educational Rejection

Denial can be helpful, but only if you listen to what it’s trying to teach. Otherwise, you will almost certainly just keep taking rejection the wrong way. So what insights have I learned?

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