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Experiencing denial, especially when it occurs frequently, is far from pleasant. A publisher is turning you down, giving a definite “Nope.” Being an author, I am familiar with rejection. I started pitching manuscripts 50 years back, upon college graduation. From that point, I have had several works turned down, along with book ideas and many short stories. Over the past 20 years, focusing on op-eds, the refusals have grown more frequent. In a typical week, I face a rejection multiple times weekly—totaling in excess of 100 times a year. Cumulatively, rejections over my career number in the thousands. By now, I could claim a PhD in handling no’s.

But, does this seem like a self-pitying rant? Not at all. Since, finally, at the age of 73, I have embraced rejection.

By What Means Have I Accomplished This?

A bit of background: At this point, just about everyone and their relatives has rejected me. I’ve never counted my win-lose ratio—it would be deeply dispiriting.

A case in point: lately, a publication nixed 20 articles consecutively before accepting one. Back in 2016, over 50 editors declined my manuscript before a single one gave the green light. A few years later, 25 literary agents passed on a project. One editor even asked that I submit potential guest essays less frequently.

The Phases of Setback

In my 20s, all rejections stung. I took them personally. It seemed like my work was being turned down, but who I am.

Right after a manuscript was turned down, I would go through the process of setback:

• Initially, shock. Why did this occur? Why would these people be blind to my skill?
• Next, refusal to accept. Maybe it’s the mistake? Perhaps it’s an oversight.
• Third, dismissal. What can they know? Who made you to hand down rulings on my labours? It’s nonsense and your publication is poor. I reject your rejection.
• After that, anger at the rejecters, followed by anger at myself. Why do I subject myself to this? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, bargaining (often seasoned with optimism). What does it require you to see me as a unique writer?
• Then, despair. I’m no good. Additionally, I can never become accomplished.

So it went over many years.

Notable Precedents

Certainly, I was in fine company. Stories of authors whose work was initially rejected are plentiful. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was first rejected. Because they managed to persevere, then maybe I could, too. The basketball legend was dropped from his youth squad. Most US presidents over the recent history had been defeated in elections. The actor-writer claims that his script for Rocky and bid to appear were rejected 1,500 times. He said rejection as someone blowing a bugle to rouse me and keep moving, rather than retreat,” he stated.

The Seventh Stage

Later, upon arriving at my later years, I entered the final phase of setback. Acceptance. Now, I more clearly see the multiple factors why an editor says no. For starters, an publisher may have just published a comparable article, or have one underway, or simply be considering a similar topic for someone else.

Alternatively, less promisingly, my idea is uninteresting. Or maybe the evaluator believes I am not qualified or stature to be suitable. Perhaps is no longer in the market for the work I am peddling. Or was busy and scanned my submission too fast to see its abundant merits.

Feel free call it an epiphany. Anything can be declined, and for whatever cause, and there is virtually little you can do about it. Certain rationales for rejection are always beyond your control.

Your Responsibility

Others are your fault. Admittedly, my proposals may from time to time be flawed. They may be irrelevant and appeal, or the point I am trying to express is insufficiently dramatised. Alternatively I’m being flagrantly unoriginal. Or something about my writing style, notably semicolons, was unacceptable.

The key is that, despite all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have achieved widely published. I’ve published two books—my first when I was 51, my second, a autobiography, at retirement age—and more than 1,000 articles. My writings have been published in magazines large and small, in local, national and global platforms. An early piece appeared in my twenties—and I have now submitted to that publication for 50 years.

However, no major hits, no signings at major stores, no appearances on TV programs, no presentations, no prizes, no big awards, no Nobel, and no national honor. But I can more easily take no at this stage, because my, small accomplishments have cushioned the stings of my frequent denials. I can choose to be reflective about it all now.

Instructive Rejection

Rejection can be instructive, but provided that you pay attention to what it’s attempting to show. Or else, you will likely just keep seeing denial the wrong way. So what teachings have I acquired?

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