Rejections: They could be worse.
Maybe it’s because I worked in advertising and marketing for ten years that I’ve developed the hide of a crocodile around rejections. An editor doesn’t want to buy my article? Her loss, I think, then I figure out a new market for my brilliant idea. A magazine isn’t crazy about my lede? So I’ll rework it. My story gets killed because “the magazine’s taking a new direction”? I don’t get down on myself … I get pissed and demand my full fee. (That last example isn’t rejection, it’s repugnant!)
Whenever I’ve been tempted to feel sorry for myself after what feels like a brutal rejection, I think “It could be worse: I could be trying to make a living in Hollywood.” I think about what Jennifer Aniston must have felt like when a casting agent told her she needed to lose 20 lbs. before she’d ever get hired. I imagine what actors like Danny DeVito, Peter Dinklage, or Paul Giamatti have heard during auditions. (“Too short!” “Not handsome enough.” “You? Leading man? Haa!”)
Over the last month, I’ve been riding a tidal wave of rejection with a book proposal my agent’s shopping around. I’ve heard everything: my book’s got too much research, my book’s not researched enough, there’s not enough memoir, there’s too much memoir, I’m too defensive, I need to be more strident, etc. (Luckily, everyone seems to like my writing, which is a very big bright spot!)
I have to admit, though: all that rejection started getting to me. Yeah, me with my crocodile hide! I began to doubt my writing, my talent, my marketability. In my defense, I wallowed for less than a day. Something in me snapped, and I started thinking about how hard it must be for a young actress to keep showing up for auditions, only to be told, “You’re too heavy,” or “We want someone with blond hair,” or “If you were five years younger, you’d be perfect for this commercial!” My rejections were a cake walk in comparison! It made me wonder: do actors really have it harder than writers?
I asked this question of novelist (and magazine writer) Allison Winn Scotch, who just happened to be an actress in a past life. She kindly answered my question on her blog last week, and it seems like my view of rejection is valid: rejections could be much worse.
What do you think? Would you rather be told your writing isn’t worth enough of a magazine’s ink (in writing) or that your eyes are too close together (to your face)? How do you console yourself when you find yourself getting rejection after rejection? Add your comments below!
– Diana Burrell (follow me on Twitter!)
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Feb 23, 2010 Advice, Book authoring, Magazines, Writing
Your question about my writing not being worth the ink or my eyes are too close together – I am not sure I’d care about either. Maybe it’s because I’m getting oldER (52 last birthday), or I’ve felt lots of rejection already in my personal life and put up with a lot of crap in my former professional life. But I’m at the point that I really don’t give a hoot what people think about me, my writing, or my eyes (which are very bland, hazel, and wrinkled from laughing so much). That being said, I love to have my writing critiqued by professionals, and sometimes by people in my classes or critique groups. I used to think about my wonderful Aunt Agnes that helped my mom raise me – “how can she talk like that to people?” And now I know. You feel like you have seen it all and heard it all, and you’re just not gonna suck it up any more. I used to be really cute, now I’m not. I used to take a lot of crap from men, now I don’t. I used to go home and cry about what my boss did to me, now I don’t. And yes, I would change my writing to a certain extent to get published, but I feel a lot like Diana – their loss. So I guess I’m a bit of a crocodile too.
Rejection is an old time friend of mine. Stays with me each day. Just yesterday he came to visit, yet again.
You are a talented writer and your work will find the right editor. i am positive about that.
One reason I care about rejection so much (too much?) is that sometimes I just *know* I could write well for a particular market, and I just can’t get in there. But usually other good things come along instead, and I think we also have to be grateful for every single thing we get published, cos it’s never a given and there are no guarantees.
I do think it’s worse for actors because we can still keep writing. It’s harder for actors: they can’t sit at home in their PJs and create stuff, they need lights, cameras, action and all that stuff. We can start a blog, write an e-book or a novel, and even publish it ourselves if no-one else will. Plus, we can often re-use stuff we write in some form or another so nothing’s ever really wasted. And we are rarely told we’re too old/fat/ugly/disabled etc etc… Thanks for the welcome perspective.
Oh, and I wish you lots of luck with your book! x
At least rejection is an ANSWER.
Rebecca, smart advice!
Karen, I’m getting more like this as I get older. I remember in my early 20s, crying in the ladies’ room (a la Mad Men) over some *sshole boss. Oh to know then what I know now.
Monica, I’m sorry you’ve been visited by Ms. R. You are an inspiration to me, though — you never quit! Diane, yup, that’s frustrating for me, too, knowing that I fit in but they don’t want me. And a great observation about writing versus acting. Not being able to DO something or move forward would be esp. frustrating, wouldn’t it?
Star, too true. You nailed it.
Well I can improve my writing. I can’t do anything about close-set eyes. I don’t think even plastic surgery can do that can it? Oddly enough what bothers me most are the rejections from editors kind enough to tell me I was oh so close (short fiction) but didn’t make it. Then I obsess over what word or phrase or line ruined it, but they never tell. So, in that case maybe I would prefer the casting director who would tell me specifically what was wrong with my look.
As a teenager, I took rejections very seriously as yet another affront to my sensitive nature. Rejections of literary submissions, in parallel with social rejection, convinced me I was “the loser”. Many years later, as a grown man, my perception of myself, as others see me, remains skewed from those early years. But, as for my writing, I no longer care about being rejected. As one grows older, one sees the true nature of society; what sells and what doesn’t dictates literary success.
So one can therefore conform and mimic successful writers catering to the particular “needs” of the moment or one can be true to one’s self and so risk rejection.
I embrace rejection as a way of being told I am true to myself.
That I am not rejected is received with surprise and feeling that I have served, in some substance, something of value to others.
At the end of the day, I still remain true to who I am; the definitive lesson of life.
What Diane said, totally! x
While I certainly don’t embrace rejection, I try to take the advice of well respected and well published writers like Linda and Diana who often say to take these things with a grain of salt.
I think actors who really want to act, no matter what they look like, will find a community theater or something that will allow them to work on their craft, but it’s different than writing. We writers have to write and we can do it anytime, anywhere, whether we get published or not. It’s as ingrained in us as acting is to actors except that we’re not always seeking approval. We might even unknowingly suck at what we do, but we’re still driven to do it, perhaps through journaling or letter writing.
I agree that as we get older our skin gets thicker. If I had started writing when I was in my twenties, I might have more credentials to my name now, but I also was so impressionable then that I might have thrown in the towel. Probably not, but who knows?
I’m kind of a rejection-smection girl; I just look for another market. But if my work had to support my family, I might not take it quite so well:-) But having said that, I’ll share my tip for dealing with rejection (as well as the other bad stuff that comes around in life): If it’s something I can fix, it’s not that bad.
Maybe you have to hit a certain age to appreciate that worldview.
I do support two people and three 4-leggers this way and have for 28 yrs and believe me hearing one way or the other (even if it’s the other) beats the no-answer answer. You know the one that “says”: Well, if we didn’t respond, it means we don’t want it.
This article reminds me of discussions that I had once, when I was involved in a community art project. It was said that the only thing worse than getting bad press was getting no press at all. As it turned out, getting bad press could be quite lucrative. As long as your are not getting all form letters, a rejection notice could obtain some little gems of advice – perhaps even an opportunity.