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Experiencing refusal, especially when it recurs often, is anything but enjoyable. Someone is turning you down, delivering a definite “Not interested.” As a writer, I am no stranger to setbacks. I commenced proposing articles five decades ago, upon college graduation. Since then, I have had several works rejected, along with article pitches and countless pieces. During the recent score of years, specializing in personal essays, the refusals have only increased. In a typical week, I get a setback multiple times weekly—amounting to in excess of 100 annually. In total, denials in my profession exceed a thousand. Today, I might as well have a PhD in rejection.

However, is this a self-pitying outburst? Absolutely not. Because, finally, at the age of 73, I have accepted being turned down.

How Have I Managed This?

Some context: Now, nearly each individual and others has rejected me. I’ve never kept score my acceptance statistics—doing so would be deeply dispiriting.

As an illustration: not long ago, a publication turned down 20 articles in a row before accepting one. A few years ago, at least 50 editors declined my memoir proposal before someone approved it. Subsequently, 25 literary agents rejected a project. A particular editor requested that I submit articles only once a month.

My Phases of Setback

In my 20s, each denial hurt. I took them personally. It seemed like my creation was being turned down, but myself.

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

• First, disbelief. What went wrong? How could they be ignore my ability?
• Next, denial. Maybe they rejected the mistake? It has to be an mistake.
• Then, rejection of the rejection. What can any of you know? Who appointed you to decide on my efforts? It’s nonsense and the magazine is poor. I reject your rejection.
• Fourth, irritation at the rejecters, followed by frustration with me. Why would I subject myself to this? Could I be a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, bargaining (often accompanied by optimism). What does it require you to see me as a unique writer?
• Then, sadness. I’m no good. Worse, I can never become accomplished.

So it went for decades.

Great Examples

Naturally, I was in good company. Stories of authors whose manuscripts was at first declined are legion. The author of Moby-Dick. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. The novelist of Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Almost every famous writer was initially spurned. If they could succeed despite no’s, then maybe I could, too. Michael Jordan was dropped from his youth squad. Most American leaders over the past six decades had previously lost campaigns. Sylvester Stallone estimates that his movie pitch and attempt to appear were rejected 1,500 times. “I take rejection as someone blowing a bugle to wake me up and keep moving, rather than retreat,” he remarked.

The Seventh Stage

Later, upon arriving at my 60s and 70s, I reached the last step of setback. Acceptance. Today, I more clearly see the various causes why an editor says no. Firstly, an reviewer may have just published a comparable article, or be planning one underway, or be thinking about something along the same lines for a different writer.

Or, unfortunately, my pitch is uninteresting. Or maybe the evaluator feels I lack the credentials or stature to be suitable. Or is no longer in the business for the wares I am submitting. Or was busy and read my work too fast to recognize its value.

Feel free call it an realization. Everything can be declined, and for any reason, and there is almost nothing you can do about it. Many reasons for rejection are always not up to you.

Within Control

Additional reasons are your fault. Admittedly, my proposals may sometimes be flawed. They may not resonate and resonance, or the point I am attempting to convey is poorly presented. Alternatively I’m being too similar. Or a part about my punctuation, particularly commas, was unacceptable.

The essence is that, despite all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have achieved recognized. I’ve published multiple works—the initial one when I was in my fifties, my second, a memoir, at retirement age—and over 1,000 articles. These works have been published in publications big and little, in local, national and global outlets. An early piece ran when I was 26—and I have now written to that publication for five decades.

Yet, no major hits, no book signings in bookshops, no features on talk shows, no presentations, no honors, no accolades, no Nobel Prize, and no Presidential Medal. But I can more readily accept rejection at my age, because my, small achievements have softened the jolts of my many rejections. I can choose to be reflective about it all at this point.

Educational Rejection

Rejection can be educational, but provided that you heed what it’s indicating. If not, you will almost certainly just keep seeing denial incorrectly. So what insights have I acquired?

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