Overcoming My Fear of Rejection
"I’ve learned to accept not everyone will like my work..."
Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors around the world.
Rejection is never easy. Whether it’s a form rejection or a sincere message from the editor saying they enjoyed your work, but it narrowly missed out, it doesn’t make it any easier. Here’s how I overcame my fear of rejection, and it might help you change the way you think about it too.
I Accepted it Will Happen
It’s difficult to think the piece of writing you’re so proud of can be rejected by someone who ‘doesn’t get it.’ Although, it’s important not to get defensive about it. These are the people who decide which work gets published, so their opinion counts for anyone who wants their work accepted. They are people too, and may have missed your point, but it’s also possible that whatever you were trying to get across wasn’t as clear as you thought. Either way, arguing with them will only result in losing the opportunity to send more work for their consideration.
I’ve learned to accept not everyone will like my work, and although I’ve never argued with an editor who has rejected my work, I have privately disagreed with their decision. Now I know some people will like my work and others won’t. I can only aim to send my best writing and wait to see which camp the editor and submission readers fall into.
Proof Publishers’ Tastes Vary From Each Other
I recently had a piece of flash fiction which I sent in response to two different submission calls. One was a website I had submitted several pieces to before, but these were rejected. I tried again, because I thought this was my strongest flash fiction story so far. It was accepted, and in the feedback from the submission reader, he said he liked the second person narrator and the twist in the story.
I forgot about the second publisher I sent it to until they rejected it, saying the second person narration prevented them from getting inside the victim’s head and the twist didn’t work. This is the perfect example of how tastes vary.
By understanding this, it makes rejection easier. I’m not being rejected, just my writing, and only because it doesn’t work for them. It can still work for someone else. How do you tell the difference between your piece not being a fit for one or two publications, and not being a good fit anywhere? One way to tell is if everyone says the same thing. Then it probably needs changing.
I’m not being rejected, just my writing, and only because it doesn’t work for them. It can still work for someone else.
I Expected Rejection to Happen
I don’t mean this in a pessimistic way, but realistically, such as thinking of each rejection as being one step closer to acceptance. Resolved that my work would receive more rejections than acceptances, it was easier to send it out into the world. I set myself a challenge to get an average of one rejection a day – or a total of 365 in a year. Some days, I had several. I think my record was 8 in a day, and I made a big celebration of it on social media. I think it helped other writer friends to see this, because lots of people only share their successes. If nothing else, it decreased the disappointment of rejection, because it became the norm, but the rarer acceptances were more of an occasion to feel proud of my work.
I Stopped Listening to Friends
This is no offense to any friends who have ever complimented my writing. However, unless your friends are prepared to be constructive, accepting their biased praise is nice to hear, but not helpful in finding out where you need to improve. Also, they are not the ones who have a say in you getting published. So, I always thank them, but (politely) ignore any comments from friends and acquaintances, unless I feel like they are well balanced – not just complimentary.
An Example of How Listening to Friends Doesn’t Help
I have been on the other side of the fence with submissions and had to reject a poem which wasn’t good enough. I was polite about it but skated around the fact that her work needed to reach the point sooner, by saying it was too long. The writer went on social media, posted the rejection and poem, then all her friends praised her writing. I’m sure that was nice for her to hear, but not particularly useful for helping her make changes and increase her chances of getting it accepted somewhere else.
I Tried to Learn from Rejection
On the rare occasions I get feedback with a rejection, I treat it like gold dust. I’ve made changes based on feedback, and had work accepted either by the same publisher or elsewhere. Ignoring the natural reaction to defend my written words helps me accept feedback and make improvements. Don’t let ego stand in the way.
On the rare occasions I get feedback with a rejection, I treat it like gold dust.
It wasn’t an easy achievement. The first Creative Writing module I studied, as part of my degree, came with a lot of feedback from the tutor. I took it personally and thought he didn’t like me. It was only on the second module, when I took the feedback on board. As I sent out more submissions, I realized how rare and valuable feedback is. I used some of it to change and improve my work. I went on to do a Creative Writing MA, and the constrictive criticism from this helped me reason with myself why I had made certain decisions in my writing. I took the feedback from rejections and used this to either change my work, or make other parts clearer if I thought they had missed the point. The important thing was, I explicitly chose what to keep or change, and I knew why. I wasn’t blindly clinging to something I was told to change.
Learning to Accept Success Too
It might seem like it wouldn’t be, but learning to accept success can be a problem too. Although, it’s a nice problem to have. When I expanded my writing from poetry and short stories to non-fiction and article writing, I found that when I first started to get acceptances rather than rejections to my article pitches, I was happy, but felt anxious at the same time. I hoped I could deliver what I had promised, and worried that the editor would see my finished article and change their mind. It took about 6 or 7 pitch acceptances to get over that anxiety. However, it still rears its head when editors at big publications react positively to my pitches. It also throws me a little when a literary magazine or online publication responds and I see the words, “We’ve decided to publish...” rather than “Sorry, it’s not right…”
The other downside to success is when someone shows an interest in working with you, making you feel so close to getting an amazing opportunity, only to fall at the final hurdle. One recent example of this was an imprint of a big publisher. They asked if I was interested in working on a novel. If I had been successful, this would have been the biggest breakthrough in my writing career. Only, I had to write a sample chapter, and the editor said that other writers were being considered. I told myself I didn’t stand a chance, but gave it a go anyway. I thought it was worth a try instead of self-rejecting. To skip to the end, I wasn’t chosen.
Also, I recently got short-listed in two poetry competitions. I didn’t win either of them, but shouldn’t that still be seen as success? I mean, one had hundreds of entries and the other had thousands. So, my poems were still chosen over a lot of others. I didn’t exactly fail, despite not being chosen as the overall winner in either content. I can now add that I was shortlisted to my writing CV.
I don’t regret writing the sample chapter for the publisher or entering the poetry competitions. Maybe that’s the way to overcome rejection. The fear of missing out can be a great motivator, and if I don’t try, part of me would always be wondering what could have happened.
As writers, we all experience our writing being rejected, but getting your work out there means giving it a chance to be accepted. It’s scary, but it will be worth it in the end.
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It’s always reassuring to hear that successful, talented writers like you also need to strategize to deal with rejections. It just doesn’t come naturally. In fact, I find it hilarious that only in the literary world is a “personal rejection” considered a good thing. “Oh, yay, it wasn’t a form letter! It’s personal! My fourth one this week! Crack open the champagne!”😂
These are all good suggestions. I've published about 75 stories and poems over the years. A few earned acceptances quickly but most had their fair share of declines. A conservative average might be 15 rejections per acceptance, meaning my work has been rejected over 1,100 times. (That's a lot, but probably still less than the rejections I received during my brief post-divorce experiments with speed dating!) While all that rejection is pure protein for the little "you suck" voice that I suspect every writer has camped out in the dark corners of the brain, I've learned not to let it bother me, at least not for long. I've read submissions for several lit journals, and during that time there have been stories that I've loved that were ultimately rejected by the journal. When the rejection includes a "not quite right for us at this time" it's likely the truth. Rejection might mean that the piece needs more work, or perhaps just isn't that good, which is also reality for nearly every writer, but it could also mean that the piece just hasn't found the right home yet. Learning to tell the difference comes with experience and being lucky enough to find a few readers who can provide honest, informed feedback. If there were no rejections, the acceptances wouldn't feel special, so one can always consider it the hard path that will ultimately make publication feel well-earned.