Rejected!

            There are many reasons not to become a writer.  Among lack of discipline and absence of talent--two things we could all agree upon—you should not become a writer if you can’t take rejection.  Harper Lee once said, “I would advise anyone who aspires to a writing career that before developing his talent he would be wise to develop a thick hide.” And she was right.         

I have never met a writer (a good one) whose work was universally loved and accepted by all.  Rejection is part of the job description.  So brace yourself for it, know it’s coming, and then when it hits you, you won’t be surprised or thrown off guard.  Even best-selling authors have critics, and people who can’t stand their work.  We all know you can’t please everyone.

I once kept a file of rejection letters, back when magazine writing had nothing to do with electronic submissions.  My favorites were the ones with misspellings in them, including one such letter from The New Yorker.  My peers and I all joked that someday we’d wallpaper a room with our rejection notes, but then one day I realized I didn’t really mean that, and I threw them all out. 

I came to realize that there are dozens of reasons why your work might not be right for a publication, a publisher, or a producer.  Maybe they just accepted something similar.  Maybe you didn’t do your homework and have the right feel or tone they use.  Maybe they need writers with more credentials.  Maybe they don’t get your brand of humor.  Maybe they had a fight with their wife that morning and they don’t like anything today.  Maybe your writing is too light and fluffy—or too scholarly, and they have a readership to please.  Maybe they’re idiots with no taste whatsoever and only got this job because of their uncle. I could sit and do this all day, and so could you.  And, of course, maybe your writing was the problem, and you need to polish your craft and learn to rewrite.

But don’t let one letter—or one hundred letters—make you quit, not if you feel driven to do this.  Choose more carefully targeted publishers or editors.  Get training. Work harder.  Believe in yourself.

My husband partnered with the late Dick Clark on several TV projects, and enjoyed Dick’s vast collection of show biz memorabilia, which decorated his impressive office.  Among the treasures was a note someone scrawled after seeing Barbra Streisand audition.  “Can’t act, can sing a little,” it said.  And the internet is filled with stories of wildly successful books that were rejected repeatedly before they found publishers.  Never assume the other person knows more than you do.

And, if you’re a teacher, an editor, or someone else on the other side of the pitch, who’s in the position of giving rejections, I have some advice for you, as well:  Be kind.  We’re all just people.