The Art of Accepting Rejection Letters
September 18th 2006 02:51
I'd love to say I accept these delightful letters that arrive in the mail, six months after you'd sent off your work to that much-desired editor/agent, with poise, grace and a careless shrug, and a simple, 'Oh, well. Better luck next time.'
Maybe in my parallel world I would do that. Maybe if I had my time over again. But, oh no, not in this lifetime.
Very often there are tears involved. Tantrums. The fateful letter chucked at my husband as he walks in the door at the end of the day, with 'Take a look at this!' growled at him, as if its all his fault.
A couple of days of moping follow, because, after all, I'd been so certain, so sure, that this agent, this editor, this publishing house would love my work, be dying to publish me.
Then, after the obligatory mourning period, I move on. I search for a new agent to bombard. I start all over again, as I did just last week, with my most recent mail-out.
I keep all my rejection letters in a display folder. Perhaps this is masochism at work here. You know, already depressed, from lack of social life, the extra weight I'm carrying around (yeah, she's two, gorgeous, and otherwise known as Miss Toddler), etc., etc., I then flip through my 'Rejection Folder' to make myself sink even further.
No, I like to think I keep this folder because I've known all along I will be published one day. I harbour this fantasy of me sending all of the publishers, editors and agents in my reject folder the details of the fabulous publishing contract I evenually receive. Perhaps also those rave reviews I'll get. You know the ones - 'Watch out, Nora Roberts, there is a new Queen of Romantic Suspense, and her name is K.L. Almeroth...'
Sigh.
I am, after all, a writer. Delusional imaginings and plots of revenge are all part of the parcel.
The Romance Writers of Australia (a great association, and one well worth joining if you're a romance writer; they offer loads of insider info, such as which publishing houses are looking for particular kinds of books, agent lists, and competitions...yes, name dropping now) advertised in one of their monthly journals a company that will turn all of your rejection letters into toilet paper.
Oh, to wipe my butt on some of these rejections....would be sweet revenge, but, alas, I still keep this folder. I still pore over them. Perhaps it keeps me motivated, when you would think it would have the opposite affect. Another famous quote (so famous I've forgotten who by) goes along the lines of 'The only difference between an unpublished author and a published one is that the published one didn't give up.'
Very, very true, and very motivating, I think.
On my birthday this year, I received the rejection letter I loathe the most. Because it arrived on my birthday, I thought it was a sign. 'Yes, its my birthday, I'm going to get offered that contract, oh my God....'
I opened the envelope, saw the date at the top of the letter, which was actually my husband and I's anniversary the week before, and I took this as another sign. Hope could not have swelled any bigger in me...
And nor could it have deflated any more. It was a rejection letter.
Crushed hope, a positive attitude that is repeatedly hacked to pieces, moping for days, that burst of tears and the feeling you just can't take it any more...that's all part of accepting rejection letters.
That, and never giving up. I screamed out at the world that day, on my birthday, at the letter box (yes, my neighbours' think I'm nuts), 'You can't break me, Universe! I will not give up! I will be published, damn you!'
And I've remembered my lovely, birthday outburst each and every time I've received a rejection letter since. I will always remember it, cause it sums up exactly how I feel, and how other writers should feel - writing is hard, and these rejection letters are even harder on you.
But if you want to be published, you just have to keep writing, keep doing mail-outs, and, most important of all, accept those rejection letters in the most ungraceful way possible.
Perhaps even turn them into toilet paper.
Maybe in my parallel world I would do that. Maybe if I had my time over again. But, oh no, not in this lifetime.
Very often there are tears involved. Tantrums. The fateful letter chucked at my husband as he walks in the door at the end of the day, with 'Take a look at this!' growled at him, as if its all his fault.
A couple of days of moping follow, because, after all, I'd been so certain, so sure, that this agent, this editor, this publishing house would love my work, be dying to publish me.
Then, after the obligatory mourning period, I move on. I search for a new agent to bombard. I start all over again, as I did just last week, with my most recent mail-out.
I keep all my rejection letters in a display folder. Perhaps this is masochism at work here. You know, already depressed, from lack of social life, the extra weight I'm carrying around (yeah, she's two, gorgeous, and otherwise known as Miss Toddler), etc., etc., I then flip through my 'Rejection Folder' to make myself sink even further.
No, I like to think I keep this folder because I've known all along I will be published one day. I harbour this fantasy of me sending all of the publishers, editors and agents in my reject folder the details of the fabulous publishing contract I evenually receive. Perhaps also those rave reviews I'll get. You know the ones - 'Watch out, Nora Roberts, there is a new Queen of Romantic Suspense, and her name is K.L. Almeroth...'
Sigh.
I am, after all, a writer. Delusional imaginings and plots of revenge are all part of the parcel.
The Romance Writers of Australia (a great association, and one well worth joining if you're a romance writer; they offer loads of insider info, such as which publishing houses are looking for particular kinds of books, agent lists, and competitions...yes, name dropping now) advertised in one of their monthly journals a company that will turn all of your rejection letters into toilet paper.
Oh, to wipe my butt on some of these rejections....would be sweet revenge, but, alas, I still keep this folder. I still pore over them. Perhaps it keeps me motivated, when you would think it would have the opposite affect. Another famous quote (so famous I've forgotten who by) goes along the lines of 'The only difference between an unpublished author and a published one is that the published one didn't give up.'
Very, very true, and very motivating, I think.
On my birthday this year, I received the rejection letter I loathe the most. Because it arrived on my birthday, I thought it was a sign. 'Yes, its my birthday, I'm going to get offered that contract, oh my God....'
I opened the envelope, saw the date at the top of the letter, which was actually my husband and I's anniversary the week before, and I took this as another sign. Hope could not have swelled any bigger in me...
And nor could it have deflated any more. It was a rejection letter.
Crushed hope, a positive attitude that is repeatedly hacked to pieces, moping for days, that burst of tears and the feeling you just can't take it any more...that's all part of accepting rejection letters.
That, and never giving up. I screamed out at the world that day, on my birthday, at the letter box (yes, my neighbours' think I'm nuts), 'You can't break me, Universe! I will not give up! I will be published, damn you!'
And I've remembered my lovely, birthday outburst each and every time I've received a rejection letter since. I will always remember it, cause it sums up exactly how I feel, and how other writers should feel - writing is hard, and these rejection letters are even harder on you.
But if you want to be published, you just have to keep writing, keep doing mail-outs, and, most important of all, accept those rejection letters in the most ungraceful way possible.
Perhaps even turn them into toilet paper.
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Comment by K-Dog
Comment by Shonsi
Comment by K.L. Almeroth
Motherhood
Your support is heart-warming, it really is...
Comment by K.L. Almeroth
Motherhood
You're already my number one fan, and I love it! You can't ask for much more than that - except maybe a publishing contract, but hey! Your love of my writing keeps me writing!
Love you!
Comment by Home Natural Remedies