Thank you for the pep talk! It's been months since my last two acceptances. My iceberg is so big, and the teeny tiny tip of it is barely above water! Your post helped put it all in perspective. I don't mind the rejections, but it's nice once in a while to get a "yes" ... since I refuse to stop writing (I don't think I could drag myself out of bed if I didn't get up to write) I will take your advice. Just keep going. Oh, and if I could just finish something, then I might have something NEW to submit :-)
In the past few days, *so many things* about rejection have landed in my path.
Rejection is part of the process, yes, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. This piece is reminding me of the importance of dusting off and continuing to write, pitch, and submit. As Julia Cameron says, “Work begets work.”
Really needed this today after a rejection landed in the inbox. I am keeping them, even the electronic ones, and "welcoming rejection" as evidence that I am actually putting work out there. Excited to read Maggie's new book, too.
I spent the last year accepting rejection like a legitimate writer. That means I’ve made progress. Your piece gives it some romance even! “Somewhere, there’s a place for us…” Plus, I read Maggie’s poem for the first time; that was absolutely worth the wait. All my appreciations!
I wish they still sent paper rejections so I could wallpaper my bathroom with them like my creative predecessors. Printing out the emails is not the same.
A big tip of the hat to Maggie Smith for her sobering and, dare I say, encouraging words on the beloved rejection letters. Also to Sari for interviewing her about 'Dear Writer.' Don't we all need to hear on occasion, "You can do this!" Yes, doing our art. I can't agree more, Maggie: "...In harrowing times, art is essential ..." Write the poems. Write the prose. Move the reader. Ask the hard questions. Thanks, Maggie and Sari!
I don't know why anyone bothers to keep rejections, though I don't judge. I just move on, or benevolently badger. One now-defunct magazine turned me down 10 times for 10 first-person stories in one year before sending me a polite note inviting me to submit elsewhere. Then I spent a night in jail, wrote 3,000 words about the experience, sent it in and they put it on the front page the following Tuesday. But then they subsequently bought every story they'd rejected in that year - they forgot they already looked at 'em. Point your cannon and keep firing, I say!
Just what I needed to read right now. I got a rejection in my inbox 20 mins ago, then opened Substack and saw this post. Thank you for the perspective.
I am going to imagine a thick body suit, head to toe, in a skin color. Then I will wear it whenever I post my article on Substack. That suit will grow with me as I get more silence, no fanfare. And I hope by the time I knock on literary agents' door, the suit will get thick enough to protect me from any shock or pain of whirling, wrecking ball of rejection. And, maybe, if maybe, anyone asks how to make the suit, I will tell her to read “On Rejection.”
Thank you for the pep talk! It's been months since my last two acceptances. My iceberg is so big, and the teeny tiny tip of it is barely above water! Your post helped put it all in perspective. I don't mind the rejections, but it's nice once in a while to get a "yes" ... since I refuse to stop writing (I don't think I could drag myself out of bed if I didn't get up to write) I will take your advice. Just keep going. Oh, and if I could just finish something, then I might have something NEW to submit :-)
In the past few days, *so many things* about rejection have landed in my path.
Rejection is part of the process, yes, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. This piece is reminding me of the importance of dusting off and continuing to write, pitch, and submit. As Julia Cameron says, “Work begets work.”
Thanks for this, Maggie and Sari! ❤️
Really needed this today after a rejection landed in the inbox. I am keeping them, even the electronic ones, and "welcoming rejection" as evidence that I am actually putting work out there. Excited to read Maggie's new book, too.
I spent the last year accepting rejection like a legitimate writer. That means I’ve made progress. Your piece gives it some romance even! “Somewhere, there’s a place for us…” Plus, I read Maggie’s poem for the first time; that was absolutely worth the wait. All my appreciations!
I wish they still sent paper rejections so I could wallpaper my bathroom with them like my creative predecessors. Printing out the emails is not the same.
Ha!
Every writer needs to hear this, even if Substack is the only place we publish. 😊
Beautiful read. Thank you!
Perfect read for today. Thank you.
The metaphor about the violets is fabulous. And, of course, the perfect place to end the excerpt.
Very encouraging. It only takes one yes, at the right time, for our work to get into the world.
A big tip of the hat to Maggie Smith for her sobering and, dare I say, encouraging words on the beloved rejection letters. Also to Sari for interviewing her about 'Dear Writer.' Don't we all need to hear on occasion, "You can do this!" Yes, doing our art. I can't agree more, Maggie: "...In harrowing times, art is essential ..." Write the poems. Write the prose. Move the reader. Ask the hard questions. Thanks, Maggie and Sari!
I don't know why anyone bothers to keep rejections, though I don't judge. I just move on, or benevolently badger. One now-defunct magazine turned me down 10 times for 10 first-person stories in one year before sending me a polite note inviting me to submit elsewhere. Then I spent a night in jail, wrote 3,000 words about the experience, sent it in and they put it on the front page the following Tuesday. But then they subsequently bought every story they'd rejected in that year - they forgot they already looked at 'em. Point your cannon and keep firing, I say!
Just what I needed to read right now. I got a rejection in my inbox 20 mins ago, then opened Substack and saw this post. Thank you for the perspective.
I am going to imagine a thick body suit, head to toe, in a skin color. Then I will wear it whenever I post my article on Substack. That suit will grow with me as I get more silence, no fanfare. And I hope by the time I knock on literary agents' door, the suit will get thick enough to protect me from any shock or pain of whirling, wrecking ball of rejection. And, maybe, if maybe, anyone asks how to make the suit, I will tell her to read “On Rejection.”
Love it.
“and the only way to fail at the long game is to give up.”
Thank you!
What a beautiful article, especially the last bit about violets having a second set of flowers! Loved this.