On rejection

If someone told me they wanted to be a writer, I would say, “Ok, I hope you’re good with rejection.” It’s funny how writers are some of the most sensitive people and publishing is such a harsh, brutally blunt industry.

Some fun facts:

• Robert M. Pirsig received 121 rejections of his book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
• K. Rowling’s first Harry Potter book was turned down by 12 presses
• One rejection letter for F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby said, “You’d have a decent book if you’d get rid of that Gatsby character”
• William Golding’s Lord of the Flies was rejected 21 times, with one letter saying it was “rubbish and dull”

On the way to getting my book deal, I got lots of rejections. Lots. Along these lines: “Kim has great style, but the story just didn’t pull me in.” “I liked the premise, but not her style.” “The structure is interesting, but possibly problematic.” “There is something about the pacing of the story that kept me from falling under its spell.” “I relate to the main character, but the overall story didn’t grab me enough.” “The main character is not likeable.” “It’s just not a right fit for our list.”

It’s hard to make sense of the feedback, honestly. Editors contradict each other. What one person loves, another hates, and vice versa. It’s maddening if you try to change your book in response to rejection letters. In the end, I think you have to stick with your gut. If someone comes along who sees something in you, and they request a revision, consider it, if it feels right. I had to revise my story from its original vision, but ultimately, I knew it was better revised.

As Louise Desalvo, writer and teacher, says in Poets & Writers magazine, “Agents and editors often act as if they can predict the future. Their job is to sell books, not write them. They study the marketplace, and they make judgments, often not about whether the work is good but upon whether it’s marketable.” It’s important to remember those words, to detach a little and not take the feedback too personally. The goal, after all, is to find someone who believes in you. It’s like finding a mate–be yourself and wait for someone who adores that person.

Desalvo goes on: “The problem with rejection letters is that they sound authoritative. And therein lies the challenge for us writers. Writers often lose heart and decide to stop work and abandon their projects. They mistakenly hear ‘The work is no good,’ rather than ‘I don’t want to represent or publish this work.'”

She advises writers to adopt this policy: “Whether a publisher likes this or not, I’m committed to writing this work as best I can.” It’s a good policy, a policy that helps keep things focused and simple so you stay sane. Sanity is good.

Elizabeth Gilbert, famous for Eat, Pray, Love, has said, “Your job is only to write your heart out and let destiny take care of the rest.” I don’t know about the destiny bit. Destiny implies just sitting back passively, thinking fate has all this power. I busted my ass to get a book deal. I think most writers do the same. Still, though, she’s right in that the writer’s job is to complete the work; the agent and editor are tasked with deciding if it’s good enough to be published.

Jo Ann Beard, author of The Boys of My Youth, said, “I first thought of myself as a writer when I got a rejection slip. That was a defining moment–meeting such a worthy adversary.” I kind of felt the same thing. It was a feeling of, “Oh my god, someone read my stuff. They didn’t like it, but they read it.” Of course, that got old really fast. Ha. But, still, EVERY writer faces rejection. When you get a letter, you’re part of a club. Welcome.

One last fun story: Stephen King–STEPHEN KING–started sending out work (and getting rejection letters) when he was just a teenager. He pounded a nail into the wall and stuck his rejection slips on it. He said, “By the time I was fourteen, the nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled on it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing.”

Moral of the story? As cheesy as it sounds, don’t give up.