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Encountering rejection, especially when it occurs frequently, is not a great feeling. A publisher is declining your work, giving a clear “Not interested.” As a writer, I am no stranger to setbacks. I started submitting manuscripts half a century past, upon finishing university. From that point, I have had several works turned down, along with article pitches and countless short stories. In the last score of years, concentrating on op-eds, the denials have only increased. Regularly, I face a setback frequently—adding up to more than 100 each year. Cumulatively, denials throughout my life exceed a thousand. Today, I could claim a advanced degree in rejection.

So, does this seem like a woe-is-me tirade? Far from it. Since, now, at seven decades plus three, I have accepted rejection.

In What Way Have I Accomplished This?

Some context: By this stage, just about each individual and their relatives has rejected me. I haven’t kept score my win-lose ratio—doing so would be deeply dispiriting.

A case in point: not long ago, a publication nixed 20 articles in a row before approving one. A few years ago, over 50 publishing houses rejected my book idea before a single one approved it. Later on, 25 agents declined a nonfiction book proposal. A particular editor suggested that I send potential guest essays less often.

My Seven Stages of Rejection

In my 20s, all rejections stung. It felt like a personal affront. It seemed like my writing was being turned down, but who I am.

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

• First, surprise. What went wrong? Why would they be overlook my talent?
• Next, denial. Surely you’ve rejected the incorrect submission? This must be an administrative error.
• Third, dismissal. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to decide on my work? You’re stupid and your publication stinks. I refuse this refusal.
• After that, anger at those who rejected me, followed by frustration with me. Why would I subject myself to this? Am I a masochist?
• Subsequently, bargaining (often accompanied by delusion). What does it require you to recognise me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Worse, I’ll never be accomplished.

This continued through my 30s, 40s and 50s.

Excellent Precedents

Certainly, I was in excellent company. Tales of authors whose manuscripts was originally turned down are numerous. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every renowned author was initially spurned. If they could overcome rejection, then perhaps I could, too. The basketball legend was not selected for his youth squad. The majority of Presidents over the past six decades had earlier failed in elections. Sylvester Stallone says that his Rocky screenplay and bid to appear were turned down 1,500 times. He said rejection as a wake-up call to wake me up and keep moving, instead of giving up,” he has said.

The Final Phase

As time passed, upon arriving at my 60s and 70s, I entered the final phase of rejection. Understanding. Currently, I grasp the various causes why an editor says no. Firstly, an editor may have recently run a comparable article, or have something in the pipeline, or be contemplating that idea for someone else.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my pitch is uninteresting. Or maybe the reader thinks I lack the credentials or stature to fit the bill. Or isn’t in the business for the content I am submitting. Maybe 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 any reason, and there is virtually not much you can do about it. Many rationales for rejection are forever beyond your control.

Within Control

Some aspects are under your control. Honestly, my pitches and submissions may occasionally be flawed. They may not resonate and appeal, or the message I am trying to express is not compelling enough. Or I’m being too similar. Or something about my grammar, notably commas, was annoying.

The key is that, despite all my long career and setbacks, I have achieved published in many places. I’ve written two books—my first when I was in my fifties, another, a personal story, at 65—and more than numerous essays. These works have featured in newspapers major and minor, in regional, worldwide outlets. My debut commentary ran when I was 26—and I have now submitted to that publication for five decades.

Yet, no blockbusters, no author events in bookshops, no appearances on popular shows, no presentations, no prizes, no Pulitzers, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can more easily handle rejection at this stage, because my, admittedly modest successes have cushioned the stings of my many rejections. I can choose to be philosophical about it all now.

Educational Rejection

Setback can be helpful, but when you heed what it’s trying to teach. If not, you will likely just keep interpreting no’s the wrong way. What lessons have I learned?

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