Rejection? I’ve Got Your Rejection, Right Here

Rejection at any level sucks, right?

You see someone you’re attracted to and ask them out, and you get the thanks but no thanks response. You interview for your dream job, and they go with someone else. You raise your hand to give a high five and you’re left hanging. All of it sucks. But the kind of rejection I’m talking about has to do with writing.

Your writing.

Your creation.

Your soul.

We, as writers, are an odd flock. I mean, surely you’ve realized that by now. And if you haven’t, you will. There is no denying it. No other vocation requires people to spend hour upon hour in solitary confinement locked away inside their heads, their own worlds, talking with people who don’t exist anywhere else but on paper.

Dutifully, we pound out words and sentences to bring these people, places, and things alive. We agonize with our characters, don’t we? We feel them at the worst and champion them at their best. At times, we will them to make decisions, but once fully evolved, they have minds of their own, becoming unwieldy bits of bothersome fodder to our tale. (It is magic, by the way, when that happens)

For some writers, it is enough to begin writing.

For others, it is enough to finish the first short story.

And others still it is enough to finish their first novel.

But for others, there is a need to be published, to let the world judge their work.

And it’s to the last group, I’m speaking. Writing is incredibly personal. Why? Because it’s flecks of ourselves, our pain, love, hopes, dreams sprinkled across the page for everyone to see. It’s a glimpse into our innermost secrets, the locked inner chambers of our minds and hearts.

And that’s why it hurts in a very personal way when we have our writing criticized and rejected. It matters not if it comes from our fellow contemporaries, our writers in arms, the ones who are supposed to be helping us improve and grow as writers. It hurts, even more, when our writing is rejected by the insurmountable wall of the publishing industry.

It is important to realize how brave we are as writers. It took a lot to bleed on the page for the sake of our art, to agonize over the wording, the tone, and mastering the proper voice. It took even more courage to submit a story to a publication with the hope we would earn the right to appear in print.

Some writers might say, “Oh, that’s such a shame.”

Others might say, “Tough tittie, deal with it.”

I’m kind of in the middle. I’ve been on the receiving end of brutal rejections, which stung for quite a while. I have amassed quite an impressive array of rejection letters from magazines, journals, anthologies, agents, and publishers alike. If you’ve been wading through the trenches of fiction publishing, I’m sure you have too
The important lesson learned–and it’s a hard one to swallow–is rejection is part of the writer’s growth. It truly is.

Think of the rejection as the publication saying right now, at this point in time, with this story, in this shape, the answer is no. It doesn’t mean you can’t write. It doesn’t mean the story sucks. It means, right now, it’s a no. So, leave the story to simmer, go back over it with a fine-toothed comb and submit it again.

The first rejection is always the hardest. For me, it took me about a week to get back to it. The writing I mean. Submitting again took me a little longer. But it became a rallying point. Other writers get rejected. Everyone does. It’s part of the game.

I’m incredibly stubborn. Ask anyone who knows me. I have Scottish, Irish, and German blood running through my veins. The only person more stubborn than me is my mother, the daughter of a U.S. Army Colonel. I didn’t let it deter me. When the rejection came in, I took it to heart and buckled down. It drove me to write better and to come up with better ideas. I began to read books on writing and incorporate things to improve. I read about how to better focus my query letter and how to word it so they would have a hard time saying no.

I began to submit more pieces, and although I received even more rejections, they didn’t sting as much, and I started to wear each one as a rite of passage.

Don’t let rejections get in the way of what you love.

So, join me. Wear your scars proudly and keep writing and keep submitting. The acceptances will start coming.

Never stop.

And always remember to write ON!

It’s Not Your Muse’s Fault

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It isn’t your muse’s fault.

I know some authors would completely disagree and, that’s okay. It’s their opinion and ultimately their loss.

The authors blaming their muse for their inability to continue writing are missing the point. They are overthinking it. Maybe they lack self-confidence. They worry they can’t finish the story. They struggle to put pen to paper to fill the empty spaces. Maybe they don’t believe in their abilities as a storyteller or as a writer. In short, they don’t trust themselves.

I used to be one of those writers.

After all, it’s romantic to think of a muse whispering the most incredible things in your ear as you frantically fill page after page of beautiful prose, right? Who wouldn’t want something as cool as a winged fairy to help them write?

I used to think the same way. I’d say I was stuck while writing a particular piece because my muse wasn’t talking to me. I’ve come to realize the muse is nothing but a romanticized excuse, a notion that isn’t true. It’s a crutch brought out when the writing gets tough. Blame it on the muse when the section of your book isn’t going as smoothly as you originally planned.

Stop giving some imaginary make-believe thing all the credit. The muse isn’t whispering the story to you. You are the one breathing life into the work. It’s your mind creating something magical out of nothing.

I once complained about my muse not cooperating. I said I was stuck and an author friend said, “Choke the bitch and put her out of YOUR misery.” Hearing that struck something inside. Once I took control of my muse and pressed the mute button, my writing output increased tenfold. I no longer doubt I can write the story. I sit down and write every single day. It’s liberating not having to rely on some pixie to open the story for me.

So trust me. Throw away the crutch and stop using the muse as an excuse. You need to trust yourself as a storyteller and as a writer and write the story.

Stop making excuses.

Take back your superpower.

It’s you writing the story.

It’s you that’s the author.

It’s you.

Write ON!

The Sting of Criticism

As writers, we all have a strong connection with what we write. Anything we create comes with bits and pieces of us. Every word, every sentence taking the reader on a journey we conceived by crafting a story is humbling and rewarding. It’s impossible to separate the author from the work and vice versa. That’s not a bad thing. It’s quite the opposite.

Think about it.

As an author, if you aren’t emotionally invested in the story as you’re writing it, how can you expect the reader to be? It’s as simple as that. And, because so much of ourselves is in our work, criticism can sting. A lot.

After all, we’ve taken this idea and built it into a story by pruning, editing, and polishing it until we’ve felt brave enough to unleash it upon the world. The reason for setting it free upon the readers of the world doesn’t matter. Maybe we enjoy writing for our self-satisfaction. Perhaps we’re hoping for a publishing credit. It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s all the same.

When we let someone else into our world, the one we’ve created from thin air, the one we breathed life into, it can be a little scary. Their opinion can shake our confidence and wake up the self-doubt lurking in every author’s mind.

And that’s where a lot of writers struggle.

About five years ago, I started to focus on my writing. I had soured on the publishing industry and, why not? I had a best-selling novel through Northwest Publishing twenty years prior. I was on the bestseller lists with Stephen King’s Green Mile and Danielle Steele’s Lightning. I’d thought I’d made it. The owners of Northwest had embezzled millions and stolen from hundreds of authors. Inmeshed in a class-action lawsuit, I’d had enough.

I didn’t write for close to fifteen years. It was too painful. But, the itch came back. The idea factory wouldn’t let me sleep. And while I was recovering from the first of multiple neck surgeries, I cracked the laptop open and started again.

I began putting myself out there. I started submitting short stories to magazines and novels to publishers and literary agents alike. The treadmill of submissions, as any author can tell you, can be a daunting one. A proven track record doesn’t always mean a lot in this business.

I received a particularly harsh rejection letter for a short story entitled ‘Slippage’. It suggested I pick up a book on style and take a class on form and substance and that I should take the story out of my rotation of pieces to submit.

I took it hard. I loved the story, a first-person tale set in the late 19th century about an obscure artist and the things he could create with his hands. There wasn’t anything constructive in the rejection at all, nothing I could build on. What was I supposed to take from that? Self-doubt started to snowball as more rejections for other stories began to roll in.

It would’ve been easy to drown in self-doubt. I went over the rejections and realized these were just opinions. Everybody has one. And while I took the criticism they contained personally, I didn’t let it stop me. Some were positive and others negative. It’s important to realize who is giving the criticism. If it’s someone who doesn’t tend to like the genre you’re writing in, they might not be able to relate well to your story as well as someone who loves it. If it’s a family member, they might tell you everything you’ve ever written is genius. Most likely, you’re not a genius. They are just trying to be supportive.

I learned to take every opinion with a grain of salt. As a writer, you have to realize it’s impossible to write something everyone will love. You can create something some people will love, but that’s not the most important thing to keep in mind. You have to write something you love because when you do, it shines through the work.

In the end, the most important critic is in you. You have to have faith in what you write and confidence in your ability to tell a good story. Don’t let the negative reviews or criticism detract you from putting words on paper. Stay the course and keep writing. You’ll improve with every story, every paragraph, and every word you write.

Never give up.

Always remember, write ON!

It’s Not Your Muse’s Fault

5063054.jpg

It isn’t your muse’s fault.

I know some authors would completely disagree and, that’s okay. It’s their opinion and ultimately their loss.

The authors blaming their muse for their inability to continue writing are missing the point. They are overthinking it. Maybe they lack self-confidence. They worry they can’t finish the story. They struggle to put pen to paper to fill the empty spaces. Maybe they don’t believe in their abilities as a storyteller or as a writer. In short, they don’t trust themselves.

I used to be one of those writers.

After all, it’s romantic to think of a muse whispering the most incredible things in your ear as you frantically fill page after page of beautiful prose, right? Who wouldn’t want something as cool as a winged fairy to help them write?

I used to think the same way. I’d say I was stuck while writing a particular piece because my muse wasn’t talking to me. I’ve come to realize the muse is nothing but a romanticized excuse, a notion that isn’t true. It’s a crutch brought out when the writing gets tough. Blame it on the muse when the section of your book isn’t going as smoothly as you originally planned.

Stop giving some imaginary make-believe thing all the credit. The muse isn’t whispering the story to you. You are the one breathing life into the work. It’s your mind creating something magical out of nothing.

I once complained about my muse not cooperating. I said I was stuck and an author friend said, “Choke the bitch and put her out of YOUR misery.” Hearing that struck something inside. Once I took control of my muse and pressed the mute button, my writing output increased tenfold. I no longer doubt I can write the story. I sit down and write every single day. It’s liberating not having to rely on some pixie to open the story for me.

So trust me. Throw away the crutch and stop using the muse as an excuse. You need to trust yourself as a storyteller and as a writer and write the story.

Stop making excuses.

Take back your superpower.

It’s you writing the story.

It’s you that’s the author.

It’s you.

Write ON!

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