Showing posts with label rejection slips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejection slips. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2011

Six Tips for When Rejection Happens

Rejection happens. To everyone.
You interview for a job you’re perfect for only to find it went to the boss's nephew.
That dreamy guy you've been obsessing about starts dating your best friend.
The agent you're pinning your future hopes on turns you down.
The editor who asked for a full manuscript decides to pass.
Ugh.
Rejection happens. To everyone.

A writer needs to come to terms with fact as quickly as possible. It’s a matter of survival in this industry. I was in conversation with a well known writer, who is married to another well known writer. I mentioned a recent rejection. The response? Rejections don't stop when you get well known. They just get more humiliating.
Oh. Goody.
Have the six of us on Novel Matters suffered rejection?
Yes.
Will you?
Yes.

Here is a quick reference list to refer to when literary rejection rears its big, hairy, ugly face.

1) Repeat this mantra: It isn't personal.
Sure, it feels personal. Rejection stings, sometimes hurts a great deal. You spend countless hours, days, weeks, years crafting a novel, and to have someone read it and say no hurts. But agent or editor said no to the project, they did not reject you as a person. Agents and editors derive no joy from knowing the people they say no to feel rejected and hurt. The reasons for saying no to a project are legion: The economy, the agent’s present workload, a shift in the kinds of books the house is looking for, personal taste, resources available, a dynamic market always in flux. Notice how none of these reasons are aimed at you and me - the writers?

2) It doesn't mean you are a bad writer
Not all rejections are created equal. If you are getting feedback from editors and agents who praise your work, yet are still rejecting it, try to understand that this industry is all about two things: Fit and timing. Your book could be fantastic, but that doesn't mean that every publisher is the right fit for your book. There are many reasons why a good book isn't a fit for a specific publisher, or agent. Agents and editors ensure they take on projects they are passionate about. They want the opportunity to go to bat for a book they love. It needs to be the whole meal deal in order for them to throw themselves into the fray to represent it. And remember, an editor is one voice in a publishing house. An editor might LOVE you and your work, but still be unable to sell it to the committee.

3) This is no time to panic
The way you handle today's rejection will play a part in tomorrows acceptance. If you lash out in an angry letter or blog post because you feel certain the agent, editor, or publisher will benefit from a piece of your mind, your actions will be remembered. Not in a good way. That negative impression will be difficult, maybe even impossible to overcome. You are entitled to your feelings, but keep your choice words and opinions to your most private places. Kick some boxes, scream into a paper bag - then get a hold of yourself as soon as possible.

4) Get support
Still feel too depressed to get out of bed even after you've kicked a box and screamed into a paper bag? Time to enlist some support from your inner circle. The small, close group of people in your life who understand and care about you. The people who won't go blabbing about how badly you handled being rejected.

5) Have a plan B, C, D, E, F and G.
Most writers have a dream team - a list of the industry professionals they would sell their little brother for a chance to work with. The only problem with these lists is they often include the names of industry pros who are also on everyone else's list. But, your book may not be a fit for that dream agent – but is for another, equally fantastic agent. It pays to create an open and flexible plan when submitting to agents and editors. The person you think would be best, may not be the best fit for you and your work.

6) Have a concrete plan for improving as a writer.
The best writers are the ones who understand the road of craft is never ending. But improving as a writer happens by taking specific, purposeful steps. I understood my need to improve most strongly after I became published. At the moment, I'm reading one book on literature as art, and another on reading with purpose. I'm studying deeply and at length. Rejection happens, but I can buoy myself with the knowledge that I am engaged in concrete steps to improve as a writer. That my dedication to my craft will, in time, pay off. As long as I hang on.

Do you have a plan for dealing with the sting of rejection? Felt the power of an editor's furious red pen? Dish!

Friday, March 26, 2010

Dejected Rejected Suggested

Katy’s post about having your work rejected brought back a memory.

(Now, let me begin by saying that I really wish I weren’t so weird.)

About 15 years ago I was going through one of those famous re-assessments of reality that lesser women call depression, and I decided to clean house. Literally.

I started with a bunch of papers in my office. One set of papers was the original manuscripts of my first book: written by hand on every other line of 20 spiral notebooks. (I was a terrible typist – though I typed the second draft on what I regarded as the result of direct inspiration, that others called erasable bond. The third and fourth drafts were typed at my expense by a professional.)

Those went in the barrel first. After all, wasn’t it prideful to think that anyone would ever be interested in the first draft of my first book? You’d have to be famous for that to matter to anyone, and there was no reason to suspect anyone would ever care. (Told you I was, um, re-evaluating.)

The second set of papers that went into the barrel was a fat, fat folder of papers. It would be prideful as well to assume anybody would be interested in how many times my work had been rejected. You see, I’d kept all my rejection slips, starting in high school; and yea, verily, there were a LOT of them. And I used to think everyone would be amazed at my success when they saw how many times I had been unsuccessful. So keeping them, I reasoned, was a kind of hubris. (Did I mention that I was low?)

So I found a great use for rejection slips. Firestarters. They burn really really fast and hot.

See, rejection slips can have many uses. Here are some more:

1) Origami practice.

2) Packing materials.

3) Office basketball.

4) Office volleyball.

5) Aerodynamics study.

6) Emergency fingertip surgery.

But what rejection slips cannot, must not be used for is to define who you are. Like the cresting waves of labor, each one brings a dedicated writer closer to a shoreline of achievement. Through them you learn what is marketable and what is not -- for that particular editor, for that particular publication, for that particular time.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." -- Hebrews 12:11, one of the foundational verses of my life.

Come on, help me out. What other uses can you think of for rejection slips?