🔗 Share this article

Facing denial, especially when it occurs frequently, is not a great feeling. A publisher is saying no, giving a clear “Not interested.” Being an author, I am familiar with rejection. I commenced submitting articles 50 years back, upon finishing university. Since then, I have had several works turned down, along with book ideas and numerous essays. In the last 20 years, concentrating on op-eds, the refusals have grown more frequent. On average, I receive a setback multiple times weekly—amounting to more than 100 each year. Overall, rejections throughout my life number in the thousands. By now, I could claim a master’s in rejection.

But, is this a complaining tirade? Far from it. As, now, at the age of 73, I have accepted rejection.

In What Way Have I Managed It?

Some context: At this point, just about every person and their distant cousin has given me a thumbs-down. I haven’t kept score my acceptance statistics—doing so would be quite demoralizing.

A case in point: not long ago, a publication turned down 20 submissions consecutively before saying yes to one. In 2016, no fewer than 50 book publishers declined my manuscript before someone accepted it. Later on, 25 representatives rejected a book pitch. An editor suggested that I submit articles less frequently.

My Phases of Setback

When I was younger, each denial hurt. I took them personally. It seemed like my writing being rejected, but who I am.

No sooner a submission was turned down, I would go through the phases of denial:

• First, surprise. How could this happen? How could these people be ignore my skill?
• Next, denial. Surely you’ve rejected the mistake? Perhaps it’s an mistake.
• Third, rejection of the rejection. What do any of you know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my labours? They’re foolish and their outlet is subpar. I deny your no.
• After that, anger at them, followed by anger at myself. Why would I put myself through this? Could I be a masochist?
• Fifth, pleading (often accompanied by optimism). What will it take you to recognise me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Sixth, depression. I’m no good. What’s more, I’ll never be successful.

So it went for decades.

Great Company

Certainly, I was in good company. Tales of authors whose work was initially declined are plentiful. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Nearly each writer of repute was first rejected. If they could overcome rejection, then maybe I could, too. The basketball legend was not selected for his school team. Many Presidents over the past six decades had been defeated in races. The actor-writer estimates that his Rocky screenplay and desire to appear were declined repeatedly. For him, denial as someone blowing a bugle to wake me up and get going, not backing down,” he remarked.

Acceptance

As time passed, as I reached my 60s and 70s, I entered the seventh stage of setback. Understanding. Today, I grasp the multiple factors why a publisher says no. For starters, an reviewer may have recently run a like work, or have something in progress, or be thinking about something along the same lines for another contributor.

Alternatively, less promisingly, my submission is uninteresting. Or maybe the evaluator feels I don’t have the experience or standing to be suitable. Or is no longer in the business for the content I am offering. Maybe didn’t focus and read my piece too quickly to recognize its value.

Go ahead call it an awakening. Everything can be turned down, and for any reason, and there is almost nothing you can do about it. Some reasons for rejection are always out of your hands.

Manageable Factors

Others are your fault. Let’s face it, my pitches and submissions may occasionally be ill-conceived. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the idea I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Or I’m being obviously derivative. Maybe something about my grammar, notably commas, was annoying.

The point is that, despite all my decades of effort and rejection, I have managed to get recognized. I’ve written several titles—my first when I was in my fifties, my second, a autobiography, at retirement age—and in excess of 1,000 articles. These works have been published in magazines major and minor, in regional, worldwide sources. An early piece ran when I was 26—and I have now contributed to that publication for five decades.

Yet, no major hits, no signings at major stores, no spots on talk shows, no Ted Talks, no prizes, no Pulitzers, no Nobel Prize, and no Presidential Medal. But I can more easily take rejection at this stage, because my, admittedly modest accomplishments have softened the stings of my setbacks. I can now be thoughtful about it all at this point.

Valuable Setbacks

Denial can be instructive, but when you heed what it’s trying to teach. If not, you will almost certainly just keep taking rejection all wrong. What insights have I learned?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What