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Facing denial, notably when it recurs often, is anything but enjoyable. A publisher is turning you down, giving a clear “Nope.” As a writer, I am familiar with rejection. I commenced proposing story ideas 50 years back, just after college graduation. From that point, I have had several works declined, along with article pitches and countless essays. During the recent 20 years, concentrating on commentary, the denials have multiplied. Regularly, I receive a setback multiple times weekly—adding up to in excess of 100 each year. Overall, denials throughout my life run into thousands. By now, I might as well have a advanced degree in handling no’s.

However, does this seem like a woe-is-me rant? Far from it. Because, at last, at 73 years old, I have come to terms with being turned down.

By What Means Did I Achieve It?

For perspective: Now, just about every person and their distant cousin has given me a thumbs-down. I’ve never counted my win-lose ratio—that would be deeply dispiriting.

For example: recently, an editor turned down 20 articles consecutively before accepting one. A few years ago, over 50 publishing houses vetoed my memoir proposal before one gave the green light. Subsequently, 25 representatives passed on a nonfiction book proposal. One editor suggested that I submit potential guest essays less often.

The Steps of Rejection

When I was younger, all rejections were painful. I took them personally. I believed my work being rejected, but me as a person.

Right after a manuscript was rejected, I would start the phases of denial:

• Initially, surprise. Why did this occur? How could they be ignore my talent?
• Next, refusal to accept. Certainly they rejected the incorrect submission? It has to be an mistake.
• Third, dismissal. What can editors know? Who made you to judge on my labours? It’s nonsense and your publication is subpar. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, frustration at them, followed by self-blame. Why would I do this to myself? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Subsequently, negotiating (preferably mixed with delusion). How can I convince you to see me as a unique writer?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Additionally, I can never become successful.

This continued for decades.

Excellent Company

Of course, I was in good fellowship. Tales of authors whose work was at first turned down are numerous. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Virtually all writer of repute was originally turned down. Since they did succeed despite no’s, then perhaps I could, too. The basketball legend was not selected for his school team. The majority of US presidents over the last 60 years had been defeated in elections. The filmmaker says that his movie pitch and desire to star were rejected numerous times. He said rejection as an alarm to motivate me and persevere, not backing down,” he has said.

The Seventh Stage

Later, when I entered my 60s and 70s, I entered the final phase of setback. Peace. Today, I grasp the multiple factors why someone says no. Firstly, an publisher may have just published a similar piece, or be planning one in progress, or just be thinking about a similar topic for another contributor.

Alternatively, more discouragingly, my pitch is of limited interest. Or maybe the evaluator believes I don’t have the experience or reputation to fit the bill. Perhaps isn’t in the business for the content I am offering. Or was busy and scanned my work too fast to see its abundant merits.

You can call it an awakening. Everything can be rejected, and for whatever cause, and there is pretty much not much you can do about it. Certain rationales for rejection are always out of your hands.

Your Responsibility

Others are under your control. Honestly, my proposals may sometimes be poorly thought out. They may be irrelevant and impact, or the idea I am struggling to articulate is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being obviously derivative. Or an aspect about my punctuation, especially semicolons, was offensive.

The essence is that, in spite of all my decades of effort and setbacks, I have managed to get recognized. I’ve authored two books—my first when I was in my fifties, the next, a autobiography, at older—and more than 1,000 articles. My writings have appeared in newspapers major and minor, in local, national and global outlets. My debut commentary appeared when I was 26—and I have now submitted to that publication for 50 years.

Still, no blockbusters, no book signings in bookshops, no features on popular shows, no presentations, no prizes, no Pulitzers, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can better take no at 73, because my, small successes have eased the stings of my frequent denials. I can afford to be philosophical about it all at this point.

Instructive Rejection

Denial can be helpful, but only if you pay attention to what it’s indicating. Otherwise, you will likely just keep seeing denial all wrong. So what insights have I acquired?

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