Rejection isn’t fun. Not even in the slightest. It can mess with your psyche and shatter your confidence. Yet it is something that is common for authors on a publishing journey.
Ask any author – from the freshly minted to the stoic veterans – about rejection and they’ll have a story (or several) to share. It’s all part of the process, no matter how masterful they are with the written word. Some of the most famous authors have multiple rejections tied to their names. Stephen King. J.K. Rowling. James Patterson. Agatha Christie. Joseph Heller. Margaret Mitchell. Even Dr. Seuss.
One thing those authors, and so many more, have in common is perseverance. They kept trying and trying until the right opportunity came along. It’s in those moments – the ones between rejections – where the real work lies. Finding the will to keep going when the sting of rejection lingers is a skill within itself. It would be easy to believe the doubts, to listen to the negative voice telling you you’re not cut out for this. That battle, like rejection, also isn’t fun.
I had my share of doubtful moments on my path to publishing. I finished writing Legend Has It near the tail end of 2015, roughly two years after I wrote the prologue on an airplane to Houston. I completed an extensive edit and then started querying in early 2016. Naively, I thought I would have secured a contract by the end of that year or in 2017 at the latest.
Well, 2016 went by. As did 2017. And 2018. And 2019. You get the idea. In hindsight, I should have taken more time with my edits before diving deep into the query world. I should have sent it off to a few more beta readers and sought out more constructive feedback from other writers. But I was so excited to find a publisher without realizing how difficult it really is.
The rejections came. One arrived in my inbox the same day I submitted it. Some took a little while longer. Some didn’t even respond. By mid-2016, I had more than a dozen rejections and barely any feedback. For those who are unaware, most rejections don’t come with constructive criticism (or even flat-out criticism). They send you a form letter or generic response that thanks you for submitting your work while adding that it wasn’t the right fit for them with some parting well wishes.
It's frustrating and demoralizing. You don’t know if it’s your writing, the story, the characters, the pacing or something else. The lack of an explanation leaves you with a mind full of assumptions. It’s a recipe for that negative voice to grow louder and more commanding. Turning down the volume becomes a challenge with each new rejection.
Fortunately, I did receive a few full manuscript requests during my early query days. While these didn’t pan out, they gave me hope that I must be doing something right. Agents don’t have the time to take on projects that need intensive work. They receive hundreds of queries at any given time, so they have to be selective.
The early rejections hurt. I used to believe they were a direct reflection of my ability and my story. But as more of them came in, I learned how to reframe these thoughts. Rejections are simply information. When you receive one, it means your novel doesn’t work for that one person. It doesn’t mean it won’t work for someone else.
Storytelling is a subjective business. What works for one agent won’t work for several others. When it comes to publishing a novel, all you need to do is convince one person your story is worth publishing. That’s it. While it sounds simple, it’s a process that requires patience, perseverance and positivity.
In my case, I took a break from querying to reevaluate how to make my novel shine. I spoke with friends, family and other authors. I sent out pitches on Twitter during pitch events. I entered an online contest – Pitch Wars – to win a mentorship with an established author. I didn’t win, but one of the authors read my novel and gave me several pointers. This helped me take it to the next level and eventually net a contract with Rowan Prose Publishing.
Rejection still isn’t fun, but it’s less intimidating than it used to be. It’s all about how you interpret it.