When Rejections Hurt
When we first launched this blog, Diana posted suggesting that everyone check out the blog of Scott H. Young. Scott recently posted tips for overcoming rejection that apply not just to writing but to life. (Thanks to Miss Snark for alerting readers to Scott’s post.)
I’m rarely upset over a rejection — when I get one, I toss the e-mail into my Follow-Up e-mail box to remind myself that that particular communication is settled. (I also write a nice thank you note to the rejecting editor, assuming the rejection didn’t include the words “loser” or “dream on, freak.”) But there have been a few times when a rejection — or a lack of a response that can be read as a rejection — hurts. For example, last year an editor at Mag X expressed interest in an idea of mine and promised to bring it up at the editorial meeting. I didn’t hear back after several follow-ups, and eventually gave up. Six months later, an editor of mine at Mag Y alerted me to the fact that the exact same idea was in the current issue of Mag X, written by a staff writer. (She noticed because after giving up on Mag X, I pitched the idea to Mag Y and she was considering it.) I wasn’t upset over the rejection by Mag X per se, but over the fact that they clearly thought that I wasn’t good enough for them. Ouch.
My way to get over rejections that hurt is to vent to my writer friends. After a while, the rage just kind of peters out and I’m back to my usual smiley self. (That’s when being unable to focus on one thing for more than 20 seconds is good.) I don’t eat chocolate or exercise or punch pillows, though those tactics work for other writers.
Okay, spill: What do you do when you get a rejection that hurts?
[lf]
Great post, Linda! As you know, I get over rejections pretty quickly. In fact, I just confessed to a writer friend on Monday that I have somewhat high self esteem when it comes to my career. That is, I can’t fathom why an editor would diss my writing or ignore me, which leads me to think, “He’s a moron. I deserve better than that.” (Luckily, I’ve never had an editor diss my writing, but plenty have ignored me.) And that leads me to my next point: it’s rarely about me. It’s about them — they’re ignoring “me” because they’re swamped and don’t have time to say, “No thanks” or just maybe my e-mail’s moldering in their spam filter. There are always a million ways to take something personally — but it’s words, not me they’re rejecting. Does that make sense?
The non-rejection rejections are the worst.
Tell me it’s a dumb idea, tell me it’s such a perfect idea you just ran it last week (this happened to me once, ouch!).
But when you don’t answer the pitch, I don’t know what to do.
Wait? Call? Follow up? Shrivel and have a martini?
To get rid of the sting, I try to think of one thing that I can do to bring myself forward. Whether it’s checking out a class or getting started on another project. Just one thing. Then I give myself a break for the day (see martini).
I agree that it’s difficult when you get no response to a query. Is it because the editor is busy, the editor didn’t like your idea, your query fell behind the staff refrigerator, the editor is on vacation…? Each one of situations would require a different response (follow up in a week or two, pitch a different idea, resend your query, wait it out…). We need to know!
I also agree with Diana that “It’s not me, it’s them.” It’s so easy to think that editors are thinking about you 24 hours a day. YOU’re thinking about you 24 hours a day. And editors are thinking about themselves 24 hours a day.