Sweet Rejection

by L. Lynn Young

"Thank you for letting us read your work. We will not be publishing this story, but we enjoyed it and would like to see more."

"A solid try with some real atmosphere but didn’t quite completely jell for me."

"I loved the story! Well written, thought-provoking and just an all-around excellent read. Please rework the story and re-submit?" (Huh?)

The above quotes were taken from actual rejection letters that I’ve received. No matter how nicely worded, rejection letters all boil down to one word: NO. They hurt. They’re embarrassing. They never go away. And here’s the sick thing...I love them. Crave them. Need them the way I need chocolate or Big Macs or a tall glass of water after working off the chocolate and Big Macs. Every time I receive another self-addressed envelope, I literally tremble in anticipation as my sweaty fingers pry open the flap, heart soaring with hope that I’ve beaten the odds and captured my first byline.

Alas, the odds have yet to be in my favor.

But do I pout? Cry? Stomp my feet and curse the editor? No, because rejection letters teach us humility, they teach us how to be better writers – no, they FORCE us to be better writers because those "No thank you”s give us more reality than all the biased praise heaped on us by our mothers, uncles, significant others, and best friends. People who love us can afford to lie, editors can’t.

In the two years that I’ve been submitting my writing for publication, I’ve learned to close my ears to the ooohs and ahhhs of loved ones, no matter how clearly heartfelt, and I’ve opened my eyes to the truth. And, oh, how it hurt, the way growing pains hurt. But, at last, that initial sharp stab of rejection slowly faded into a dull ache of acceptance, then, finally, to full-grown appreciation.

We writers are notoriously self-centered creatures, even narcissistic when it comes to our own work. We tenderly stroke the hardcopy while weeping, laughing, shaking our heads in wonder over the magnificent thing we’ve produced. We read it again and again, perhaps aloud, and marvel at our genius. How could anyone not accept this masterpiece? we ask ourselves.

And so, armed with the knowledge that our prose is deathless and our fame assured, we pop the manuscript in the mail, with visions of editors slapping themselves upside their heads and muttering, "Where has she been all my life?"

Okay, that may be solely my fantasy. It used to be, anyway. Perhaps you’re not as in love with your words as I once was. Maybe you’re more able to read your work with a clinical eye. Yeah, and I’m Virginia Woolf.

If you are a new writer, you are, by definition, a chubby-legged toddler, an energetic, curious child who makes mistakes and falls down on his butt a lot. But, with time, that adorable, promising child/writer matures, lives through life’s dilemmas, creates solutions, becomes more adept at navigating the twists and turns, gains savoir-faire.

Take a look at some of the manuscripts that you wrote way back when—diaries, letters, furious notations based on dreams. Anything. Humiliated? Good! If you weren’t, then there is cause for concern here. Feeling your face redden while reading the old stuff is an indication that you’ve learned a thing or two and are capable of learning much, much more. Learning means practice, and we all know that practice makes, well, almost perfect. And “almost perfect” can sometimes translate to a byline.

I should know. I’ve got plenty of those immature babies—which, at one time, masqueraded as literary masterpieces—stuffed in my drawer. But that doesn’t mean that I’ve given up on them.

Which leads me to this: A few rejections doesn’t necessarily mean that it isn’t grown-up enough to see print. If you honestly believe in that story, and have made every effort to ensure its marketability, by all means, DON’T stuff it into your scrap pile. Keep in mind the criticism given to you by editors who’ve rejected it, and tend to its weaknesses. Keep sending it. Be excited about being a part of the writing community, rejections and all. Everyone gets rejected now and then, so stop pouting and learn to use rejection to your advantage. One of the key differences between unpublished and published writers is that the published writer PERSEVERED

The fact that you’re reading this article right now is testament to that perseverance.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I hear the mailman...

-- LLY
© 2000 L. Lynn Young

For the past ten years, L. Lynn Young has devoted most of her time to caring for her family, running a small home-based daycare, and writing. She has recently decided that the time is right to let her babies go free (literarily, of course) and is actively pursuing a writing career.