Accepting Setbacks: Wisdom from 50 Years of Writing Journey

Facing denial, particularly when it recurs often, is not a great feeling. Someone is turning you down, delivering a firm “Nope.” As a writer, I am no stranger to rejection. I started proposing story ideas five decades ago, right after finishing university. From that point, I have had two novels rejected, along with book ideas and many pieces. During the recent score of years, focusing on commentary, the rejections have only increased. On average, I face a rejection frequently—adding up to in excess of 100 annually. Overall, denials throughout my life exceed a thousand. By now, I might as well have a master’s in rejection.

However, does this seem like a complaining outburst? Not at all. Because, now, at 73 years old, I have accepted being turned down.

In What Way Have I Managed This?

A bit of background: Now, just about each individual and others has given me a thumbs-down. I’ve never kept score my success rate—that would be quite demoralizing.

A case in point: not long ago, a publication turned down 20 pieces one after another before saying yes to one. A few years ago, no fewer than 50 publishing houses declined my manuscript before a single one approved it. A few years later, 25 literary agents declined a book pitch. One editor even asked that I submit potential guest essays only once a month.

My Phases of Setback

When I was younger, all rejections hurt. It felt like a personal affront. It was not just my writing was being turned down, but myself.

No sooner a manuscript was rejected, I would begin the phases of denial:

• First, shock. Why did this occur? Why would editors be blind to my ability?
• Second, refusal to accept. Certainly they rejected the incorrect submission? Perhaps it’s an administrative error.
• Third, rejection of the rejection. What can they know? Who appointed you to judge on my work? It’s nonsense and their outlet is poor. I reject your rejection.
• After that, irritation at them, followed by frustration with me. Why do I do this to myself? Am I a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, negotiating (preferably mixed with optimism). How can I convince you to recognise me as a unique writer?
• Sixth, despair. I’m not talented. What’s more, I can never become any good.

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

Great Company

Certainly, I was in good company. Stories of writers whose books was initially declined are plentiful. The author of Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Virtually all writer of repute was initially spurned. Because they managed to overcome rejection, then maybe I could, too. The sports icon was not selected for his high school basketball team. The majority of Presidents over the past six decades had earlier failed in campaigns. The filmmaker claims that his script for Rocky and bid to appear were declined 1,500 times. “I take rejection as a wake-up call to motivate me and get going, not backing down,” he stated.

The Seventh Stage

Then, as I reached my 60s and 70s, I achieved the seventh stage of setback. Acceptance. Now, I more clearly see the multiple factors why a publisher says no. Firstly, an reviewer may have already featured a like work, or have something underway, or just be thinking about something along the same lines for another contributor.

Or, more discouragingly, my pitch is not appealing. Or the editor feels I don’t have the experience or stature to be suitable. Perhaps is no longer in the business for the content I am peddling. Maybe was too distracted and read my submission too fast to recognize its value.

Feel free call it an epiphany. Everything can be rejected, and for whatever cause, and there is almost little you can do about it. Certain reasons for rejection are permanently beyond your control.

Manageable Factors

Others are within it. Honestly, my proposals may occasionally be poorly thought out. They may be irrelevant and appeal, or the point I am attempting to convey is not compelling enough. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or something about my writing style, notably semicolons, was unacceptable.

The essence is that, in spite of all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have achieved widely published. I’ve published multiple works—the initial one when I was middle-aged, my second, a memoir, at retirement age—and more than numerous essays. My writings have been published in publications major and minor, in local, national and global sources. My debut commentary ran decades ago—and I have now submitted to various outlets for half a century.

Yet, no bestsellers, no author events at major stores, no features on talk shows, no Ted Talks, no book awards, no big awards, no Nobel, and no medal. But I can more readily accept rejection at 73, because my, admittedly modest achievements have cushioned the stings of my many rejections. I can afford to be thoughtful about it all today.

Instructive Rejection

Setback can be educational, but when you pay attention to what it’s indicating. Or else, you will likely just keep taking rejection all wrong. So what lessons have I acquired?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What