And frankly not giving a damn.
Rejection is hard, and especially as a writer, rejection is everywhere. As I write this I’m sitting on fifteen short story rejections and three to six* manuscript rejections.
(*depending on how you count Pitch Wars rejections; that’s a story for another day.)
In some circles of the writing community I’ve noticed an insinuation that talking openly about rejection is a pitfall of new writers. The idea being that only the unpracticed and unpolished would talk about their failure. Because all they’ve done is fail so far. How can they be “good writers” if they shout their rejections from the rooftops? One of my favorite humans has some choice words for this idea:
I can hear you now, critical internet denizen, “aren’t you proving your point right now? You’re not published yet! Here you are! Touche, anonymous stranger. In riposte, I offer these, by traditional and commercial standards, very successful writers for your consideration:
- Stephen King famously received 30 rejections from publishers from his first novel, Carrie, before finally getting published. We only know this story so well because he’s written about his early rejections at length in On Writing and many other venues throughout his career.
- Ursula K LeGuin was told that though she wrote well, there was no audience for her novels. She then went on to publish The Left Hand of Darkness, which has since been reprinted 30+ times and won both Hugo and Nebula Awards. She shared this letter with the world, on her own website to encourage aspiring writers.
- Brandon Sanderson was writing and being rejected for eight years before he sold Elantris. He’d written thirteen novels before he finally published. He’s talked about this in the writing classes he teaches through BYU that are also on Youtube, and on his FAQ.
- Chuck Wendig‘s blog had five pages of articles when I searched for rejection. He screams at the top of his authorial lungs about rejection. Arguably, his boldness and honesty has helped his writing career.
- Margaret Atwood writes about struggling through a failed idea for a novel right before she started to write The Handmaid’s Tale.
Another popular sound bite: romanticizing rejection is bad.
To that, I’d ask: is talking about something romanticizing it?
Look, I’m not excited to have my writing rejected.
But if no one is talking about the reality of submissions: that you’ll get rejected far more than you’ll ever succeed, then when rejection does happen to a writer just setting out on their journey, they’ll have even more reason to just give up. We need more voices sharing their perspectives, not fewer. If talking honestly about my failure gives one person the hope to keep trying: I’m here for it. I will gladly shout into the void for you, stranger.
On that note! How do I submit? Why do I submit? For me, there’s this crazy mental state when I’m about to send a submission to a literary magazine. A wave of courage that overwhelms logic and reason and drives me to believe in my story long enough to click submit. It is a beautiful moment when I receive the auto-confirmation email. My submission has been received! In that moment, I dare to hope.
What if this is the one? What if this story gets shared with the world?
It could be! Screw the odds!
Because, my friend, the odds are LONG.
I hope you’re sitting down, because here are the acceptance and rejection rates of a few of the markets I’ve submitted to, courtesy of The Submission Grinder. These are all SFWA markets, because I am endlessly hopeful, or maybe because I hate myself:
Fireside Magazine:
Accepted: 3.73%
Rejected: 94.76%
Clarkesworld Magazine:
Accepted: 1.31%
Rejected: 98.51%
Beneath Ceaseless Skies:
Accepted: 4.75%
Rejected: 94.11%
PodCastle:
Accepted: 3.59%
Rejected: 95.68%
Strange Horizons:
Accepted: 1.04%
Rejected: 97.69%
There is nothing romantic about those statistics. I don’t share these user-generated statistics to discourage, but to inform. And there are many semi-pro magazines that might have better odds, but at the end of the day it’s always a lot of luck.
You have to submit the right story at the right time to the right market staffed by the right readers and be seen by the right editor to have it fit into the right edition to be accepted for publication.
If so many conditions have to be just right, why even bother?
BECAUSE.
You can’t ever be published if you don’t submit.
The only way forward is to try. And keep trying.
We’ve established everyone faces rejection and that it’s going to happen a LOT. So, once you get rejected, what do you do?
No, not that. It is a good practice to develop some healthy coping habits. I mean, if putting on noise canceling headphones and crying to the sound of silence while drinking a glass of wine works for you… there are worse vices.
Over the course of my 15+ rejections, I’ve developed the following habits:
- I read the rejection email.
- I read it again.
- I let myself sulk for the evening.
- I put whatever project got rejected on hold from anywhere from a day to a week, just to give myself some mental space.
But then I come back to the page. I re-read. If the rejection gave any specific feedback (rare, but occasional) I assess if I should re-write based on those comments. Then I might find a fresh pair of eyes to read for me; not always. But always, I eventually resubmit.
Here’s the thing: rejection hurts but it is powerful.
It teaches you to be better, if you let it. It forces you to look at your work with a more critical eye. The hardest rejection for me, so far, was a story that made it to a second round of review. My hope was unbounded when I heard my story was under further review. I could see the words on the page; imagined finally announcing (when contractually allowed) to my family and friends that I had done it! I’d look at other stories published through that market, imagining myself featured for the first time.
But it wasn’t meant to be. And that is okay.
It hasn’t been all bad. I’ve also had strangely positive reactions to rejection. For example, the second query I sent out for my manuscript was met with a, “I hope you’ll keep me in mind in the future.”
I was ELATED.
Far more excited than I had any right to be over a rejection. But: I’d gotten a response! And the smallest indication that something in my query letter had gone right.
Another lesson: savor every small victory. Use it as fuel to keep you going. I do not think it is naive to celebrate minuscule victories: I think it’s human.
Keep on writing. Keep on submitting. The dream hasn’t become a reality for me yet, but I’m going to keep trying. And I hope you do, too. I’ll leave us all with some more inspirational words, again from one of my favorite humans.
Always remember:
and also an important reminder:
I’ll see you out there in the submission trenches!
– M