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Experiencing denial, especially when it recurs often, is far from pleasant. An editor is turning you down, delivering a definite “No.” As a writer, I am well acquainted with setbacks. I began pitching story ideas five decades ago, upon finishing university. Over the years, I have had multiple books turned down, along with book ideas and numerous pieces. In the last 20 years, focusing on personal essays, the denials have only increased. In a typical week, I receive a rejection every few days—adding up to over 100 times a year. Overall, denials in my profession run into thousands. At this point, I could claim a advanced degree in rejection.

So, is this a self-pitying outburst? Not at all. Since, at last, at the age of 73, I have come to terms with rejection.

How Have I Accomplished It?

A bit of background: By this stage, almost each individual and their distant cousin has said no. I haven’t kept score my success rate—that would be very discouraging.

For example: lately, an editor nixed 20 articles in a row before saying yes to one. In 2016, over 50 publishing houses vetoed my manuscript before a single one accepted it. Subsequently, 25 representatives passed on a project. An editor even asked that I submit articles less often.

My Steps of Rejection

Starting out, all rejections stung. I took them personally. It seemed like my writing was being turned down, but me as a person.

As soon as a manuscript was rejected, I would go through the process of setback:

• Initially, disbelief. What went wrong? Why would these people be ignore my ability?
• Next, refusal to accept. Certainly it’s the mistake? This must be an administrative error.
• Then, dismissal. What do they know? Who made you to judge on my labours? It’s nonsense and their outlet stinks. I deny your no.
• Fourth, anger at those who rejected me, then frustration with me. Why do I put myself through this? Could I be a masochist?
• Fifth, negotiating (often accompanied by false hope). How can I convince you to see me as a once-in-a-generation talent?
• Then, sadness. I’m not talented. Additionally, I can never become successful.

So it went through my 30s, 40s and 50s.

Excellent Examples

Naturally, I was in fine fellowship. Stories of authors whose books was at first declined are numerous. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was initially spurned. If they could succeed despite no’s, then possibly I could, too. The basketball legend was cut from his school team. Most US presidents over the recent history had previously lost campaigns. Sylvester Stallone estimates that his Rocky screenplay and desire to star were declined 1,500 times. For him, denial as a wake-up call to rouse me and get going, instead of giving up,” he stated.

Acceptance

As time passed, as I reached my 60s and 70s, I achieved the seventh stage of rejection. Acceptance. Today, I grasp the many reasons why an editor says no. To begin with, an reviewer may have already featured a like work, or have something in the pipeline, or be thinking about a similar topic for a different writer.

Or, less promisingly, my submission is not appealing. Or the editor thinks I don’t have the experience or stature to be suitable. Or isn’t in the field for the content I am peddling. Maybe was too distracted and reviewed my piece too fast to recognize its abundant merits.

Feel free call it an epiphany. Everything can be rejected, and for any reason, and there is pretty much little you can do about it. Many rationales for rejection are forever beyond your control.

Within Control

Others are under your control. Let’s face it, my proposals may occasionally be poorly thought out. They may be irrelevant and resonance, or the message I am trying to express is poorly presented. Or I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or a part about my punctuation, notably semicolons, was offensive.

The essence is that, regardless of all my years of exertion and rejection, I have achieved widely published. I’ve published two books—the initial one when I was in my fifties, another, a autobiography, at 65—and in excess of 1,000 articles. My writings have appeared in publications big and little, in regional, worldwide sources. My debut commentary ran in my twenties—and I have now contributed to that publication for 50 years.

However, no major hits, no signings publicly, no spots on talk shows, no presentations, no book awards, no Pulitzers, no international recognition, and no Presidential Medal. But I can better accept no at my age, because my, admittedly modest achievements have softened the blows of my frequent denials. I can now be thoughtful about it all today.

Valuable Setbacks

Denial can be helpful, but provided that you listen to what it’s trying to teach. Otherwise, you will likely just keep interpreting no’s all wrong. So what insights have I learned?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What