Us writers are sensitive folk. That’s why we can pick stuff out from our environment and digest it into a story that is funny, heartbreaking or thrilling. It comes in handy when you need to tune in with a character, too. It’s less handy though when rejection, this bitter companion of creative expression, rears its ugly head.
Rejection, found on flickr.com
Today, my lovely and supportive agent has confirmed my building suspicion that the novel I have been working on for five years next to work, that sucked up my life blood sometimes but brought me to life most times, has not found an interested publisher because they found it too hard to place in the market to give it a try. The feedback about my writing was good though and there would be a reasonable chance to publish it when I would be able to sell my second manuscript … oh you mean the manuscript currently 15 pages long? Right. And there it was …. aaah, the sweet sting of rejection.
Luckily, this didn’t hit me unprepared as I have developed my own little rejection recovery programme over the recent years. In four easy steps it jerks me out of jaws of disappointment back into winner’s mode, let’s you rise out of the ashes like … or something like that.
Step 1: Self-pity, and hard-core!
Screw positive thinking. I mean, really. I don’t wanna think about me being lucky for having a lovely supportive agent, or having received good feedback on my writing, or second chances or long term perspectives and all that “bright side” nonsense. Five years of social withdrawal on weekends and for what? I have been let down by the gods. People don’t get it. I will never make it as a writer. My agent will ditch me. Self-publishing, here I come. Now hand me red wine, a hankie and the early days of Tom McRae, if you please. And by the way – I will NEVER WRITE AGAIN!
Step 2: The Voice of Obsession
After a couple of days I usually re-emerge from my bitter-writers-retreat. Or rather I am coaxed out by that little fecker in me that is totally fine without writing for exactly one day. Now that I think of it, he actually sounds a bit like Mrs. Doyle. Here some demonstration for all those not familiar with Irish culture staples. Just imagine the decision to write being a glass of sherry…
This is as well usually the time when I can bear looking at my work again, and read the published books of others. Empathy and uplifting comments about my shining talent to write and how these publishers will one day kick their own butts are as well accepted in this time. I slowly re-approach writing, mostly in small doses (birthday cards, blog posts).
Step 3: Gritting my Teeth
This is when I figure that maybe this is not a conspiracy after all but the literary version of Isner vs. Mahut in Wimbledon, and I am approaching the end of 2nd set. A long term battle of will and skill. As an unpublished writer who wants to get published, I have to decide if I want to shrink back from the big bad world of publishing and its necessities, or stick it out there in the heat, keep pushing with an unsure outcome. To show them all! Can you do this? Can I do this?! Hand me my notebook, pen and cape, Alfred.
found on biglittlebooks.com
Step 4: Zen
The holy grail. A phase I only reach by writing and writing alone. There is nothing more blissful than being with your characters, observing what they are doing and how they get through their lives although subjected to often unspeakable horrors of their written fate. What are my trials and tribulations against theirs, after all? This is the phase where nothing is about the opinions or restrictions of the publishing world. This is only about writing. How could I even for one second contemplate abandoning them? This is the real thing. The joy of creating. Nothing ever beats that. Oooommmm.
So this is my strategy. Works every time. Until the next rejection, anway. And you get this for free, folks.
But over to you, my dear readers. What are your strategies to overcome the sting of rejection? Anything that I could and should add to my portfolio?
found on flickr.com
12 Comments
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Uugghh, that’s bad news. And I also feel rejected in a way as I am so convinced of you and your book.
Rejection portfolio, hmm – let’s see… No, can’t think of anything
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Britta, don’t take it personally …
You might just have to hang in there a bit longer together with me. 
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Eva, I’m so sorry about the rejection but at least you did get some positive feedback! And you have an agent but like you said… screw positive thinking!
I know it happens to every writer and I know it is a part of the whole process… but still, the hell with positive thinking! 
Thank you for sharing your method with us, I’ll make sure to use it when I start querying soon and getting those pretty little rejection slips
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Hehehe, thanks, Lua! It definitely is a widely shared fate and sooo invaluable for shaping a personality.
Anyway, fortunately I have left phase I already so I concentrate on the future … Have a good weekend, Eva
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“Talent is a question of quantity. Talent does not write one page: it writes three hundred. No novel exists which an ordinary intelligence could not conceive; there is no sentence, no matter how lovely, that a beginner could not construct. What remains is to pick up the pen, to rule the paper, patiently to fill it up. The strong do not hesitate. They settle down, they sweat, they go on to the end. The exhaust the ink, they use up the paper. This is the only difference between men of talent and cowards who will never make a start.” (Jules Renard, Journal).
Keep on working Eva – apparently you’re on the right track!
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Robert, thanks soo much for this, you really warmed my heart. And made me laugh. Jules Renard is a smart fucker, alright. Rejections are great as long as they bring comments like this.
And yeah dude, let’s just go bowling….
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Great advice and I LOVE Father Ted…one of my fave TV shows ever!
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Hey Agatha – thanks a lot for dropping by! Happy if you found something useful and/or funny in the programme.
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Grrr…I am becoming increasingly convinced that publishers are not aware they aren’t tapping all worthwhile markets out there. That’s how my sister’s book came into being, after all–the publisher started her own business after recognizing the massive market of folks reading and responding to texts online that didn’t otherwise make it through traditional publishing channels.
Regardless, I bow down to you for having one finished and polished manuscript under your belt as you already exhibit fervor for writing the next one. With that drive and genuine love for writing, there’s no question both of them (and all your subsequent ones) will be on the shelves some day…and a copy of each on my own bookshelf.
Thank you so much for this valuable advice for when I finally emerge from my little cocoon of pre-manuscript-submission ignorance. Ain’t it bliss
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@ Monkey: Thanks for your heartfelt and great support. I agree there are quite some points to be positive about. My main problem actually is being sentenced to stick this out with my manuscript gathering dust. But it is too early to give up now, something inside me tells me. And I listen. Thanks so much again for your continued commenting. Always makes me smile …
(there – proof!)
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Oh, I feel for you. Having scored an agent, I run the risk of the same terrible fate. The agent likes it, but that doesn’t mean amny publisher will. Your steps in the stages of grieveing for the lost novel are very succinct, it’s a process.
Something for you http://publishersearch.wordpress.com/2010/07/19/seven-other-kinds-of-happiness/
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@ Tahlia: Thanks so much for your uplifting cartoon – and dropping by at all! It is a journey alright, but happiness lies in so many things. All the best on your journey. Will start following it so I can be there when you strike gold. And it will happen!