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Experiencing refusal, particularly when it happens repeatedly, is anything but enjoyable. Someone is saying no, giving a clear “Nope.” As a writer, I am no stranger to rejection. I began pitching articles half a century past, upon finishing university. Over the years, I have had multiple books rejected, along with nonfiction proposals and numerous short stories. In the last score of years, specializing in commentary, the rejections have multiplied. On average, I receive a rejection multiple times weekly—adding up to over 100 each year. Cumulatively, denials in my profession number in the thousands. Today, I could claim a PhD in handling no’s.

So, does this seem like a woe-is-me rant? Absolutely not. As, finally, at 73 years old, I have embraced rejection.

By What Means Did I Achieve It?

Some context: By this stage, just about everyone and others has rejected me. I haven’t tracked my success rate—doing so would be deeply dispiriting.

A case in point: lately, a newspaper editor rejected 20 articles one after another before saying yes to one. A few years ago, no fewer than 50 book publishers vetoed my memoir proposal before one accepted it. Later on, 25 agents passed on a book pitch. One editor even asked that I submit articles only once a month.

My Seven Stages of Rejection

Starting out, each denial stung. It felt like a personal affront. I believed my writing was being turned down, but myself.

Right after a manuscript was rejected, I would start the phases of denial:

• Initially, surprise. How could this happen? How could editors be ignore my skill?
• Second, refusal to accept. Maybe it’s the wrong person? Perhaps it’s an oversight.
• Third, dismissal. What do they know? Who appointed you to hand down rulings on my efforts? They’re foolish and the magazine is subpar. I deny your no.
• After that, irritation at those who rejected me, then self-blame. Why do I do this to myself? Am I a glutton for punishment?
• Fifth, bargaining (preferably accompanied by delusion). What does it require you to acknowledge me as a exceptional creator?
• Sixth, depression. I’m not talented. Worse, I’ll never be successful.

This continued for decades.

Great Precedents

Certainly, I was in good company. Accounts of authors whose books was at first declined are legion. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick. The creator of Frankenstein. The writer of Dubliners. Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The author of Catch-22. Nearly each writer of repute was originally turned down. If they could persevere, then possibly I could, too. The basketball legend was not selected for his high school basketball team. Most Presidents over the last 60 years had been defeated in elections. The filmmaker estimates that his script for Rocky and bid to star were rejected repeatedly. For him, denial as someone blowing a bugle to wake me up and keep moving, instead of giving up,” he stated.

Acceptance

Then, when I entered my senior age, I reached the seventh stage of setback. Understanding. Today, I grasp the many reasons why a publisher says no. To begin with, an reviewer may have recently run a comparable article, or have something underway, or simply be thinking about something along the same lines for someone else.

Alternatively, unfortunately, my pitch is not appealing. Or maybe the reader feels I don’t have the experience or stature to be suitable. Or is no longer in the field for the content I am submitting. Maybe was too distracted and reviewed my work too quickly to recognize its quality.

You can call it an epiphany. Anything can be declined, and for numerous reasons, and there is almost not much you can do about it. Many explanations for rejection are permanently out of your hands.

Manageable Factors

Others are under your control. Let’s face it, my proposals may from time to time be flawed. They may not resonate and resonance, or the message I am struggling to articulate is poorly presented. Or I’m being obviously derivative. Or an aspect about my punctuation, notably dashes, was annoying.

The key is that, in spite of all my years of exertion and setbacks, I have managed to get recognized. I’ve authored multiple works—the initial one when I was in my fifties, my second, a autobiography, at retirement age—and in excess of numerous essays. My writings have appeared in newspapers large and small, in local, national and global platforms. My debut commentary appeared in my twenties—and I have now submitted to that publication for five decades.

Yet, no bestsellers, no signings in bookshops, no features on talk shows, no presentations, no prizes, no accolades, no international recognition, and no medal. But I can more easily accept no at 73, because my, humble accomplishments have softened the jolts of my frequent denials. I can now be philosophical about it all now.

Instructive Rejection

Denial can be instructive, but only if you pay attention to what it’s trying to teach. If not, you will probably just keep interpreting no’s incorrectly. So what teachings have I gained?

{Here’s my advice|My recommendations|What