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Experiencing rejection, especially when it recurs often, is far from pleasant. A publisher is declining your work, delivering a clear “No.” Working in writing, I am well acquainted with rejection. I began pitching story ideas five decades ago, right after finishing university. Since then, I have had two novels turned down, along with article pitches and many pieces. In the last score of years, concentrating on op-eds, the denials have multiplied. On average, I face a setback frequently—amounting to over 100 times a year. Overall, denials in my profession number in the thousands. At this point, I could have a PhD in rejection.

However, is this a self-pitying outburst? Absolutely not. Because, finally, at 73 years old, I have embraced being turned down.

By What Means Have I Managed It?

Some context: Now, nearly every person and others has rejected me. I’ve never kept score my acceptance statistics—doing so would be very discouraging.

A case in point: not long ago, an editor turned down 20 articles consecutively before accepting one. A few years ago, no fewer than 50 editors rejected my memoir proposal before someone approved it. Later on, 25 representatives passed on a nonfiction book proposal. One editor suggested that I send my work less frequently.

My Seven Stages of Rejection

In my 20s, each denial were painful. It felt like a personal affront. I believed my creation was being turned down, but me as a person.

As soon as a manuscript was turned down, I would start the phases of denial:

• First, disbelief. Why did this occur? Why would these people be blind to my ability?
• Second, refusal to accept. Certainly they rejected the mistake? It has to be an oversight.
• Third, rejection of the rejection. What do any of you know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my work? It’s nonsense and the magazine is poor. I deny your no.
• Fourth, anger at them, followed by self-blame. Why do I subject myself to this? Am I a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, bargaining (often seasoned with delusion). What does it require you to recognise me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Worse, I can never become successful.

I experienced this through my 30s, 40s and 50s.

Excellent Examples

Certainly, I was in good company. Accounts of authors whose work was originally turned down are numerous. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. James Joyce’s Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every writer of repute was initially spurned. If they could overcome rejection, then perhaps I could, too. The sports icon was dropped from his school team. Most US presidents over the past six decades had previously lost races. The filmmaker says that his Rocky screenplay and attempt to appear were turned down repeatedly. He said rejection as a wake-up call to wake me up and get going, not backing down,” he has said.

The Final Phase

Then, when I entered my senior age, I achieved the final phase of rejection. Understanding. Now, I better understand the many reasons why a publisher says no. Firstly, an editor may have just published a similar piece, or have one in the pipeline, or just be thinking about that idea for a different writer.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my pitch is uninteresting. Or the evaluator thinks I lack the credentials or reputation to fit the bill. Or isn’t in the market for the content I am submitting. Or didn’t focus and scanned my submission too fast to see its abundant merits.

Go ahead call it an epiphany. Any work can be rejected, and for numerous reasons, and there is virtually nothing you can do about it. Many rationales for denial are permanently not up to you.

Manageable Factors

Additional reasons are your fault. Let’s face it, my pitches and submissions may occasionally be ill-conceived. They may not resonate and resonance, or the message I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Or I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Maybe a part about my writing style, especially commas, was offensive.

The essence is that, in spite of all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have achieved recognized. I’ve written multiple works—the initial one when I was 51, another, a personal story, at retirement age—and more than 1,000 articles. These works have been published in magazines large and small, in diverse outlets. My debut commentary was published when I was 26—and I have now contributed to various outlets for five decades.

However, no bestsellers, no author events at major stores, no appearances on popular shows, no speeches, no honors, no big awards, no Nobel Prize, and no medal. But I can better accept rejection at 73, because my, humble accomplishments have eased the blows of my many rejections. I can choose to be philosophical about it all today.

Valuable Setbacks

Rejection can be helpful, but provided that you listen to what it’s attempting to show. Otherwise, you will likely just keep taking rejection the wrong way. So what lessons have I learned?

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