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Encountering refusal, particularly when it occurs frequently, is far from pleasant. A publisher is declining your work, giving a clear “Not interested.” Working in writing, I am familiar with setbacks. I started proposing story ideas half a century past, right after finishing university. From that point, I have had several works rejected, along with book ideas and many pieces. Over the past two decades, focusing on personal essays, the rejections have grown more frequent. In a typical week, I receive a setback frequently—amounting to in excess of 100 times a year. Overall, denials throughout my life run into thousands. Today, I could have a master’s in rejection.

So, is this a complaining tirade? Far from it. Because, now, at seven decades plus three, I have accepted rejection.

In What Way Have I Accomplished It?

A bit of background: By this stage, just about everyone and others has rejected me. I haven’t kept score my success rate—doing so would be quite demoralizing.

As an illustration: not long ago, a newspaper editor rejected 20 pieces one after another before accepting one. In 2016, at least 50 editors declined my manuscript before someone gave the green light. Subsequently, 25 agents rejected a nonfiction book proposal. An editor requested that I send my work less often.

My Steps of Setback

Starting out, each denial stung. I took them personally. It was not just my work being rejected, but myself.

As soon as a manuscript was rejected, I would begin the “seven stages of rejection”:

• First, shock. What went wrong? Why would editors be ignore my talent?
• Second, denial. Certainly you’ve rejected the incorrect submission? It has to be an mistake.
• Third, rejection of the rejection. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to judge on my work? It’s nonsense and their outlet stinks. I refuse this refusal.
• After that, frustration at those who rejected me, followed by anger at myself. Why do I put myself through this? Could I be a martyr?
• Subsequently, pleading (preferably mixed with false hope). What will it take you to see me as a exceptional creator?
• Then, sadness. I’m no good. Worse, I’ll never be successful.

This continued for decades.

Excellent Precedents

Certainly, I was in good fellowship. Tales of authors whose books was initially turned down are numerous. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Nearly each famous writer was initially spurned. Since they did succeed despite no’s, then perhaps I could, too. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team. Many US presidents over the past six decades had previously lost campaigns. Sylvester Stallone says that his script for Rocky and desire to star were rejected 1,500 times. He said rejection as a wake-up call to motivate me and get going, rather than retreat,” he stated.

The Final Phase

Then, as I reached my later years, I entered the last step of setback. Acceptance. Today, I grasp the various causes why a publisher says no. Firstly, an reviewer may have recently run a like work, or have something in the pipeline, or be contemplating that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, more discouragingly, my submission is uninteresting. Or the evaluator feels I am not qualified or stature to succeed. Perhaps isn’t in the market for the wares I am peddling. Or didn’t focus and read my work too fast to see its abundant merits.

Go ahead call it an realization. Everything can be rejected, and for whatever cause, and there is pretty much not much you can do about it. Many reasons for denial are always beyond your control.

Manageable Factors

Some aspects are your fault. Honestly, my proposals may occasionally be flawed. They may lack relevance and appeal, or the message I am trying to express is poorly presented. Or I’m being obviously derivative. Maybe an aspect about my writing style, notably dashes, was unacceptable.

The point is that, despite all my years of exertion and rejection, I have succeeded in being widely published. I’ve authored two books—the initial one when I was 51, the next, a autobiography, at retirement age—and over numerous essays. These works have appeared in magazines big and little, in local, national and global sources. An early piece ran decades ago—and I have now contributed to various outlets for five decades.

Still, no bestsellers, no signings at major stores, no spots on TV programs, no speeches, no book awards, no big awards, no Nobel Prize, and no medal. But I can better accept no at 73, because my, small accomplishments have cushioned the blows of my frequent denials. I can choose to be reflective about it all now.

Valuable Setbacks

Setback can be instructive, but when you listen to what it’s attempting to show. If not, you will probably just keep taking rejection incorrectly. So what lessons have I learned?

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