How to Survive a Rejection
Or What to Do When the Dreaded Packet Returns
You’ve done your part. You’ve queried an agent or editor, or you’ve sent out a requested partial or full manuscript. Now you wait. Days. Weeks. Months. Even a year or more. Remember at this point, it’s out of your hands. You’ve done your very best. Until it comes bouncing back, you must forget about it. Keep writing and don’t pin all of your hopes on your submission. Press forward as if you’d never submitted in the first place.
But when that fateful day arrives and you open your mailbox to see a familiar looking packet, first and foremost, don’t panic. Don’t automatically assume it’s a rejection. Requests for full manuscripts or suggestions for making your manuscript saleable may be in the packet. Or it may be the dreaded rejection.
If it is either of the first two, celebrate. If, however, it’s the latter, here are some suggestions to help you survive the rejection.
THE FIRST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS:
Vent your emotions. Cry scream, curse or whatever it takes to get rid of that initial negative reaction. However, do not under any circumstances call, write, or email the agent or editor to let them know what you think of them at the current moment. Publishing is a business like any other, and it’s a small world. Don’t take the rejection personally even though it may feel like a personal attack. It isn’t. It’s a business decision.
If you feel like eating, eat – a lot. Haul out your favorite comfort food. It’s there for a reason.
If you feel like drinking, drink but just enough to dull the pain. Remember all of the famous writers who led tortured existences and became alcoholics. You don’t want to be one of them, at least not the tortured or alcoholic part. Famous is okay.
The main thing to remember is to do whatever soothes both you and your creative psyche during this phase.
If you’re receiving multiple rejections weekly, tone down or limit the food and drink intake to a more moderate level. You could quickly end up gaining weight (a lot) or developing a drinking problem. If you’re receiving less than one rejection a week, indulge.
Call a caring friend, preferably a writer, who will understand your pain. Hang up if they tell you they just sold, signed a fabulous book contract, or got a request for a full. You can congratulate them later. Right now you need someone who will temporarily wallow in your pain with you and will listen to you whine and moan and will love and nurture you.
Email writer friends about your rejection. They will email you cyber hugs. Bask in the empathy and warmth of understanding, compassionate friends. Treasure them and be ready to reciprocate, should the need arise.
Talk about your voice. A lot. Talk about how the agent or editor didn’t understand your voice, or your plot, or your characters or whatever. Feel free to fill in the blank.
Mention the unfairness of the business and the tightness of the market. Examine your pristine manuscript pages. Celebrate the wrinkle or crease on page four and the coffee stain on page ten.
Talk about the misspelling of your name on the actual rejection letter. Briefly contemplate changing your name to whatever the agent or editor came up with. If you received a Dear Author letter, don’t bother. There are way too many of those already.
Throw yourself a full-fledged pity party complete with a bad hair day, pajamas and no make-up (you’ve probably cried most of it off anyway).
Give yourself permission to feel rotten and to do whatever it takes within legal and moral confines to get that feeling out of your system.
Pamper yourself. Get a massage. Take a relaxing bath. Do your nails. Have someone else do your nails.
Buy yourself something nice. Celebrate the fact that you tried. For without trying, you have absolutely no chance of succeeding. However, if you’re receiving multiple rejections each week, you may need to limit the cost of the gift to yourself. Or increase your credit line on your charge cards. Small business loans will not be approved for this type of expenditure. Better yet, train your significant other to buy you something nice when that rejection comes your way. But don’t fall into the trap of saying, “Oh boy, another rejection. Wonder what he’ll buy me this time?” It’s a very thin line we walk.
THE SECOND TWENTY-FOUR HOURS:
Wake up re-energized. It’s a brand new day.
Log your rejection on your Submission Tracker Sheet with the date of the rejection and the reason. Be as detailed as you can. Cull all of the information you can from your rejection, even if it’s a form letter. Form letters can speak volumes. Learn to read them.
Compose a sincere, friendly thank you note to the agent or editor. Pitch another idea, or ask if you can resubmit your work in the future. Always include a SASE. Mail the thank you note as soon as possible.
Objectively analyze what areas of your work need improvement. Sign up for a writing class, a workshop or a conference to broaden or hone your skills.
File the rejection letter in your Submission Tracker notebook. Close the notebook and put it away. Out of sight.
Stop agonizing or thinking about your rejection. It’s a closed issue, just like the notebook.
Concentrate on positive, creative things. Think of at least one new story idea. Allow yourself to get excited about it. Make notes so you don’t lose your new ideas.
Write new pages.
Believe you will sell. Believe in yourself and your abilities. If you don’t, who will?
Don’t look back. Keep your goals in sight and maintain your focus. Think of what can be, not what could have been.
Continue to write new pages.
And finally, plan your next submission.
During the month of January 2004, I received three rejections on requested material. One of them was the dreaded Dear Author form letter, one was no longer interested in commercial fiction and the last was a very kind, positive letter encouraging me to continue to write and to resubmit to her in the future. All on the same piece of work.
The business we’re in is highly subjective. If you’re going to succeed, you must survive the dark days, the days of the rejections. Allow yourself all the pity and bad feelings you want for the first twenty-four hours. But on that second day, pick yourself up, mentally and physically, and get back to writing. You can’t succeed if you give up. Keep producing and keep submitting. And keep surviving those dreaded packets that find their way back to you.
Kathleen R. Jorgensen
March, 2004