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Experiencing denial, especially when it happens repeatedly, is far from pleasant. An editor is turning you down, giving a definite “Nope.” As a writer, I am familiar with rejection. I began submitting story ideas half a century past, upon college graduation. From that point, I have had two novels rejected, along with book ideas and countless essays. During the recent 20 years, concentrating on personal essays, the refusals have grown more frequent. On average, I face a setback multiple times weekly—totaling over 100 times a year. Cumulatively, denials over my career exceed a thousand. By now, I might as well have a advanced degree in handling no’s.

So, does this seem like a self-pitying outburst? Absolutely not. Because, at last, at the age of 73, I have embraced being turned down.

In What Way Have I Accomplished This?

Some context: At this point, nearly each individual and others has given me a thumbs-down. I haven’t tracked my win-lose ratio—that would be very discouraging.

As an illustration: not long ago, a newspaper editor nixed 20 pieces one after another before accepting one. A few years ago, no fewer than 50 editors declined my memoir proposal before one approved it. Subsequently, 25 representatives declined a nonfiction book proposal. One editor even asked that I send potential guest essays less frequently.

The Seven Stages of Setback

Starting out, all rejections stung. I took them personally. It seemed like my writing being rejected, but myself.

Right after a submission was rejected, I would begin the process of setback:

• Initially, shock. How could this happen? How could they be ignore my skill?
• Second, refusal to accept. Maybe you’ve rejected the mistake? This must be an oversight.
• Then, dismissal. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to judge on my work? It’s nonsense and your publication is poor. I refuse this refusal.
• After that, frustration at them, then anger at myself. Why do I do this to myself? Could I be a masochist?
• Fifth, negotiating (often mixed with delusion). What does it require you to recognise me as a unique writer?
• Sixth, despair. I lack skill. Worse, I’ll never be accomplished.

This continued for decades.

Excellent Precedents

Naturally, I was in excellent company. Tales of creators whose work was at first declined are numerous. The author of Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every renowned author was originally turned down. If they could persevere, then perhaps I could, too. The basketball legend was dropped from his school team. Many US presidents over the recent history had been defeated in elections. The filmmaker claims that his movie pitch and desire to appear were declined numerous times. For him, denial as a wake-up call to rouse me and persevere, not backing down,” he has said.

The Final Phase

Later, upon arriving at my senior age, I achieved the final phase of setback. Peace. Now, I more clearly see the multiple factors why an editor says no. Firstly, an publisher may have just published a like work, or be planning one in progress, or be thinking about a similar topic for another contributor.

Alternatively, more discouragingly, my idea is of limited interest. Or maybe the reader feels I don’t have the experience or standing to succeed. Or isn’t in the market for the content I am submitting. Or was too distracted and reviewed my piece too quickly to see its abundant merits.

You can call it an awakening. Anything can be declined, and for whatever cause, and there is virtually nothing you can do about it. Some explanations for rejection are forever beyond your control.

Your Responsibility

Others are within it. Admittedly, my ideas and work may from time to time be flawed. They may be irrelevant and resonance, or the message I am trying to express is not compelling enough. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or an aspect about my writing style, particularly semicolons, was offensive.

The key is that, in spite of all my long career and setbacks, I have succeeded in being widely published. I’ve authored two books—the initial one when I was middle-aged, my second, a personal story, at 65—and in excess of 1,000 articles. My writings have been published in publications large and small, in diverse platforms. An early piece ran in my twenties—and I have now submitted to many places for five decades.

However, no bestsellers, no book signings in bookshops, no appearances on popular shows, no presentations, no book awards, no Pulitzers, no Nobel, and no national honor. But I can more readily take rejection at this stage, because my, admittedly modest successes have cushioned the jolts of my many rejections. I can now be reflective about it all now.

Valuable Setbacks

Setback can be helpful, but provided that you heed what it’s attempting to show. Otherwise, you will likely just keep seeing denial the wrong way. So what lessons have I acquired?

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