Rejection as writer's tool?

"Rejection can simply mean redirection.”

“I would advise anyone who aspires to a writing career that before developing his talent he would be wise to develop a thick hide.”

            ~ Harper Lee

Harper Lee’s writing advice (or warning) has been told to many a writer to make sure their publishing dreams are realistic because to be a writer is to be rejected—a lot—just as to be a baseball player is to swing and miss the ball—a lot.

But how do you grow a thick skin? Are some people born with a thicker skin than others, as if they’re genetically wired for resilience? Can you do mental exercises to thicken your skin? Does a writer’s skin toughen with each rejection? Or does successful publication provide a salve for past wounds—and a shield for future assaults?

This was the topic of a book I recently pitched. My goal was to help writers develop a “rejection mindset.” I interviewed Marlon James (famous for the 78 rejections he received for his first novel) for a sample chapter in the proposal, researched psychological studies on rejection, and got commitments from 12 other amazing authors to tell their rejection stories—to be rejection mentors, in effect.

What happened? Three editors wanted to acquire it, but each of them were ... rejected by their publishing house's editorial committees. My book on rejection was ironically rejected, haha. The joke’s on me.

So, right now, I’m reflecting on one of the lessons of the book: How we respond to rejection determines who we are as writers and what we can accomplish.

The many flavors of rejection

Every writer faces a potential labyrinth of rejection with every book, whether it’s self-rejection, rejection from an agent or editor, rejection from a book reviewer, or rejection from a beta reader (or even one’s mother).

Sometimes a rejection can send a writer into a tailspin of self-doubt. Sometimes a rejection can motivate a writer to bare down and try harder. Sometimes a rejection can open up an opportunity to see a story in a new and better way. But sometimes a rejection can lead a writer into self-destructive behavior and bitterness.

It happens even to the best of writers. Nathan Englander was once at a dinner with Philip Roth, and he asked Roth if being an author gets easier. “My skin will get thicker with each book, right?” he asked.

“It’ll get thinner and thinner until they can hold you up to the light and see through,” Roth said.

Roth said this after he’d received nearly every writing award and accolade possible, except the Nobel Prize for Literature, which gnawed at his thinning skin to the end.¹

Success only provides a temporary salve for rejection because the number of an author’s rejections will dwarf their acceptances. We think that our skin toughens with each blow of rejection, but receiving a lot of rejection doesn’t necessarily thicken our skin.

In fact, as Roth says, each rejection can wear a layer of skin away. Rejection is so pervasive in a writer’s life that rejection for a writer is akin to water for a fish, except rejection doesn’t include the life-giving nutrients and oxygen that water provides.

Or does it? Can rejection actually be a gift? Can rejection be the best revision tool you have? Can it be a door into deeper engagement, a lens to look at your story in a different way, a motivator?

People rank rejection among their greatest fears, above pain, loneliness, and illness, yet the irony of rejection is that it’s a necessary stage in the development of any endeavor, whether it’s publishing a novel, proposing a new workplace initiative, or even asking a stranger for directions.

Developing a “rejection mindset”

We must learn how to develop a “rejection mindset.” That was the purpose of my book: to help writers examine their own reactions to rejection, understand why our brains are naturally wired to fear rejection, and be able to see one’s rejection in the larger context of others’ experiences.

Rejection can unfortunately be a taboo subject because few like to talk about their failures, so writers are at the mercy of their reactions to rejection instead of developing a more thoughtful response.

In the case of Philip Roth, he was a notably spiteful man, and his naturally aggressive attitude thinned his skin as much as the specific rejections he obsessed about. We all have thin skin, though. Our life, at its most basic, is a search for love and belonging, so rejection of any kind can puncture our sense of self-worth—or more than puncture.

Rejection is a threat, and it can feel like an attack. Our fight-or-flight survival response kicks in. Some of us run, but some of us fight. Some of us give up, but some of us persist doggedly. Some of us self-destruct, but some of us grant ourselves grace because we tried, and we try again.

Literary history is full of famous authors whose work almost never made it to the light of day because of rejection. Celeste Ng kept a color-coded document called the “Spreadsheet of Shame” for the hundreds of rejections she received before publishing her first novel. Alex Haley's epic Roots was rejected 200 times in eight years. “Nobody will want to read a book about a seagull,” an editor wrote to Richard Bach about Jonathan Livingston Seagull, which went on to sell millions of copies.

On the surface, rejection can feel like not just one person rejecting you, but an entire conspiracy of all the universe’s forces. Fear of rejection is in our cells—we don’t want to be expelled from our tribe. We’re social animals, genetically wired to seek approbation, if not celebration, so rejection on any level can feel like we’re not good enough to be with the others.

When faced with rejection, our instinct is often to recoil with self-loathing and to avoid risking rejection at all. But we must ask ourselves whether rejection is the end or the beginning? Do you need to seek rejection out, with the spirit that each rejection brings us closer to yes?

Rejection’s odd invitation

The one thing that most successful authors know is that the most painful thing is often the best thing for your work. Despite the stings of rejection, you have to find a way to make rejection your friend, your teacher, and your coach. A rejection can lacerate the soul like few other things, but you have to find a way for your hope to live and grow within that incision.

Rejection is an opportunity to look at your work and analyze it from the point of view of an editor or agent. Rejection teaches a writer that valuable skill that every writer needs to know: to listen, to consider, to re-evaluate, but also to know when to say to hell with you.

A rejection is an invitation—a peculiar invitation, a cold invitation, but, still, an invitation—to improve your story, to keep going. You might say, in fact, that rejection and how we deal with it is at the heart of becoming. Think of how lacking you’d be as a human being if you’d never risked failure and been rejected.

Every writer hears anecdotes about how revered authors were rejected many times, but the story behind the story is rarely revealed. How did these rejected authors face their creative crisis, continue to believe in the value of their work, and keep trying?

I’d hoped my book would help writers understand their “rejection brain” by delving into psychological studies of rejection, better situate themselves and their rejections through the stories of other authors, understand the difference between self-reflection and self-recrimination—all to finally develop a “rejection mindset.”

We’ll see where my own rejection journey takes me …

What now? Plan B?

Part of rejection is about developing a Plan B (and C and D in some cases), and I'm in the process of thinking that through.

I’m thinking about starting a Substack newsletter and eseentially writing the book week-by-week on Substack. Would you subscribe to that?

In the meantime, please post your rejection stories, your rejection breakthroughs, your rejection non-breakthroughs, etc., because I do want this project to come to life in some way, and I’d like to include people's stories.

A special episode of Write-minded dedicated to rejection

I discussed rejection and the book that might have been with my very affirming, positive, co-host Brooke Warner on our Write-minded podcast.

Because a quote on rejection

“Perhaps because of my long history as a dancer, actress and writer, rejection is something with which I am all too familiar. . . for every accomplishment there were twenty rejections. A dance company thought my style was incompatible with theirs. A casting director found me lacking. An editor considered my writing too fanciful, or too plain, too abstract or too concrete. I could go on for hours. In the end, though, only one attitude enabled me to move ahead. That attitude said, ‘Rejection can simply mean redirection.’”

—Maya Angelou

I have open coaching/editing spots!

I love working with writers, and I have some space on my Writing Consult calendar if anyone's looking!

I do the following:

• Manuscript Assessments and Editing

• One-on-One Coaching: Writing Motivation, Creative Process, and Accountability

• Pitching and Submission Guidance

• Special Flash Fiction Consulting

• Book Proposal Assistance

• Ghostwriting

Contact me to find out more about my one-on-one work with writers.

1. This story was originally recounted by Stephen Marche in the New York Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/11/books/review/writers-failure-joyce-melville-boethius.html