I know this write-up is a little lengthy, but if you are an aspiring writer or even a published one, this article is a must read as it clearly brings to fore that with persistence, every dog (or writer) has it's day [and many more to boot]. I have tried to cut it short in places without derogating from the overall message.
. . .Cheers, SMC
Dealing With Rejection
by Alex Keegan
Getting a form letter, a "no, thank-you" from a publisher is not a rejection; it's a purple heart, it's acknowledgement that you are a real writer, that you are submitting, that you are in there fighting, that you recognize that hard-work and persistence will counterbalance bad luck and choosing the wrong moment, the wrong editor.It is a pre-requisite for eligibility for The Pushcart Prize, for The O'Henry Award, for the British Booker Prize, the Canadian Governor General's Prize, for the National Book Award and for the Nobel Prize for Literature that the author must have been, at one time, an unpublished author.
Now take that paragraph (or write your own) print it large and pin it above your computer.
Every author, each and every single published author, as well as going to the bathroom every day, was once an unpublished hopeful, a wannabee, unrecognized, nowhere, zip, in the wilderness, out in the cold, depressed, probably poor, right on the brink of becoming an engineer (or working as an engineer and learning to go without sleep). If it was easy everybody would be doing it, Publishers not taking your work are simply publishers not taking your work. It may be and often is because your work is not yet good enough, but it may be because your piece is too long, too short, too good, too tough, not tough enough, too similar to a recent story, not similar enough to the publisher's typical story, too sexy (or not sexy enough) too fantastic (or too realistic). There are many, many reasons (and excuses) for a publisher not taking your work, which is why you must write, write, write, submit, submit, submit.
It goes without saying that you should know your markets and research your targets, read the literary journals, take note of the authors and titles being published, find out about editors, but that's another article. This one is about dealing with the "not for us at this time's".
The Writer's Book of Checklists (ISBN 0-89879-454-4) by Scott Edelstein lists 21 excellent points on how to live with rejection and rather than simply reiterate those, I'D suggest you get a copy and take a look. But the essence of Edelstein's article is that
the piece, not you is being rejected, don't let rejection shake your faith in your work, listen and consider every comment on a rejection, and keep submitting and keep polishing.From here on, I will be talking about shorter works, short stories and articles or poems. In a previous article in the Internet Writing Journal, I argued, isn't becoming a writer, a serious, consistent writer at least as tough as a degree? A University degree takes three or four years full time. Why should we expect to become writers in a shorter space of time than that?
…You cannot fail if you work at your art, if you read, read, read, write, write, write, submit, submit, submit. If you are capable of reading this article you can write well enough to get published.Rejections are side effects, meaningless. I had made myself a target, to publish everything I wrote. Sure I began with Paris Review and Atlantic, sent stuff to New Yorker and Story, but when they rejected me (overlooked my obvious future fame, I mean) I aimed a tad lower, then, if I had to, lower again. But I kept my belief in myself, my work.Every time I received an overlooked-my-obvious-talent-note I sent the story out again, immediately, (always immediately), and I tried to send something new to the editor who had just said no. What this meant was that the volume of my work circulating grew and grew until at one point I had more than seventy items circulating.
…This year I've made 168 submissions, had 107 rejections, and right this minute I have a total of 49 items out there. But I've also had 43 hits. What I have is regular feedback, good and bad, but I work, I write, I submit. I know that the key to success is hard work and determination, a single-minded focused determination. I can count. I know that three rejections mean a sale. I welcome rejections, every rejection takes me nearer the next sale, every hit in Blue Moon Review or a competition in Ireland takes me nearer the letter from Atlantic, the yes from Paris Review, that cheque from The New Yorker.