It feels awesome to read the rejection that just hit your inbox, doesn’t it?
No. No, it does not.
But, as the King of Storytelling says, put that rejection on your nail and submit again. (Read On Writing if you haven’t already, mmkay?)
I handle rejections the same way many authors do, I imagine. At first, I assure myself that it’s a normal part of the process to being published. Everyone, even the great writers of our time, have been rejected at some point or another. I’m just paying my dues.
About 30 minutes later, I’ll listen to the inner man inside my brain list each and every one of my creative faults and debate whether or not to join his team and grab an overpriced stadium beer.
This is a hard profession to break into. I get it. Plus, I’m not a great writer. I don’t have an overinflated ego and I’m not in denial. I have a lot to learn and a part of me–a small part– realizes that each rejection helps to turn me into a better wordsmith.
But man, rejection does hurt. It’s not a scalding pain but a lump of dull ache deep inside my belly. It lays there like a ball of dough that won’t digest.
It’s been 12 minutes since I read my latest rejection. I’m approaching the time where the disembodied voice will tell me that my style doesn’t work for most readers. No one will ever want to read something that I create. I should stick to raising babies and dreaming.
I haven’t ever taken advice from anyone before so I figure, why start now?
I’ll look over my submission in a few days and read it with fresh eyes and a clear head. I’ll make changes if needed and look for someone else to critique my art. Then, I’ll start the entire arduous process over again.
Now, however, I’ll put headphones over my ears to drown out that invisible nay-sayer who is sure to make an appearance. I’ll boost my psyche by Googling novels that were rejected before being published. Instead of a beer, I’ll grab my afternoon cup of coffee and lift it up at my desk.
Here’s to you, my fellow unpublished writers. May your acceptance letter come soon.