It’s Not Me. It’s You.
Rejection comes….well, for me it comes in many forms and for many reasons, but I will narrow my focus to the rejection of my writing. That sort of rejection comes in the form of a terse, though polite, email or post card. Usually something like this:
Dear Writer:
We regret that the manuscript you submitted does not fit our current editorial needs. Thank you very much for sending us your work.
Sincerely,
The Editors
Sometimes they throw in a pity line like “we received many fine submissions, yours among them.” That faint praise might seem more sincere if it weren’t pre-printed on a post-card that doubles as a subscription form (“we’re sorry that we can’t publish your story, but send us your money anyway”). The polite, robotic tone—much like the tone used by automated bank tellers and psychiatric nurses—somehow manages to make it impossible to take offense, but also makes you want to rip out your own eyeballs. Don’t rip out your eyeballs, however. Or rend your clothes. Or hole up in your bedroom for a month eating Mars Bars and peanut butter. Take heart! Endure! Persevere! And do try to feel a little sympathy for the journals and their editors—they suffer too.Most journals are flooded with submissions. Ploughshares says they receive a thousand submissions a month. A thousand! A month! And that is not uncommon—even the smaller journals gets hundreds of submissions a month. If the editors took the time to comment on every rejection from the oh-hell-no’s to the close-but- no-cigars, they’d never have time to do anything else—including publish a magazine.
So the pre-printed post-cards are necessary and unavoidable. The best response is to shrug and try again. Look for a magazine that might be a better fit for your story. So much of this business is about taste—these editors didn’t fall in love with your story, but there may be another journal and another set of editors that have been waiting for something just like your work. If the rejections start piling up and you are getting turned away by even the likes of Rejects Quarterly (an actual journal), maybe it is time to put the story aside for a while and start working on something new.
This is what I tell myself: Don’t let the rejection get you down. Keep writing and keep trying. I have the same advice for anyone trying to get published. Also, definitely take my word on the whole Mars Bar and peanut butter thing—it may feel good at the time, but it will come back to haunt you.
Until next time!
Rachel Luria
February 25th, 2008 at 4:43 pm
You are so right about how the robotic tone of those letters makes it impossible to take offense but is at the same time completely infuriating. I think nothing else in my life has helped me thicken my skin like submitting to literary journals does … I used to feel so depressed whenever I got one of those letters but now sometimes I laugh at them. My favorite was one in response to an essay I sent to this one journal–I actually got some handwritten comments, and they were complaining that my “story” didn’t have enough of a plot and that two of my characters both had names that started with the letter A. Well, yeah, that’s because it was a true story, an essay, not a piece of fiction, and, yeah, I went back and checked and my cover letter definitely said, “please consider the enclosed ESSAY …” And, honestly, it kind of makes you wonder about some of the people who are reading these submissions if the biggest problem they can find with a piece is that it has 2 characters whose names start with an A. (Unless, of course, they thought my essay sucked so bad that they felt there was no point providing feedback of any real substance.)
I also think it’s so important for all aspiring writers to realize that everyone gets rejected–usually lots of times, so you really shouldn’t take it too personally. So thanks for creating such a great online space where we can all hash this stuff out!
February 25th, 2008 at 6:03 pm
Well, Leslie. Two characters with names that begin with A? That is crazy. That would never happen in real life….oh wait. It did.
It’s true, though. If that is the worst they could come up with, you must be doing OK.
You are also right when you say that we need to remember that we are in good company when we get rejected–everyone goes through it, even the greats. It’s like a right of passage. I also think it has made me (is making me) a better writer.
I know there are some more good rejection stories out there–maybe some more brave souls will share them here.
February 29th, 2008 at 7:51 am
I try not to let rejections get to me. If the poems come back to me still perfectly creased, I try to get them right back in the mail. I used to find rejections debilitating, and I’d wait months before sending out again. I still have to work against that personal reaction–especially if it’s a journal I really want to be in, or poems I feel especially invested in. I had a friend in graduate school at the University of Texas who used to post rejections slips on the wall of his study cubicle. (Yes, as grad students we had tiny little study cubicles… little warrens of closets where we’d hide to read and write.) At the time we all thought it funny, but now I wonder if that could ultimately become debilitating, all those negative messages hanging above your desk. One of my favorite rejections was from several years ago –Mark Doty was a guest editor of a journal. His single line rejection: “Almost, but not quite there.” That one I kept.
February 29th, 2008 at 1:24 pm
Maybe you should try Stephen King’s rejection nail idea. Apparently, every writer needs a good rejection nail.