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Rejection As ...
Reframing rejection in an industry that thrives on exclusion.

Welcome to Five On Fridays, my probably, mostly bi-weekly straight-no-chaser newsletter where I help demystify the publishing industry for new writers and early-career authors. Let’s jump right in.
Today’s post is brought to you by a lot of experience and a little bit of woo woo.
To say that I am a master of rejection would be somewhat of an exaggeration, but I have definitely earned my rejection badge of honor. I have been rejected more than I have been accepted and lost more times than I’ve won. And this is probably true for you too. Because the only way we make it out of this life without ever being rejected is if we never try. Loss and rejection are inevitable for those of us who try because both are part of the equation for success. But accepting rejection as a positive can feel as if it requires a kind of Jedi mind trick in an industry where dreams, futures, and fortunes seem like they’re built or broken on a single acceptance or rejection. Yet I think that’s exactly the first mind shift that needs to take place.
Rejection as Redirection
A single acceptance can change the trajectory of a writer’s career, but it’s rare that a single rejection holds that power. In fact, if we allow it to, rejection can redirect our energy, our focus, and our path toward the thing/person/agent/publisher we are meant to partner with. Rejection can spare us from wolves in sheeps’ clothing, can remove us from harm, can be our salvation. But reframing rejection in this way takes practice. It means sitting with disappointment for a while, but then replacing that disappointment with determination and a promise to practice shifting the way rejection is received.
Rejection as Revelation
If we allow them to, some rejections gift us with a revelation about who we really are and what we really want. Years ago after I’d written my first manuscript Free Falling I entered it in a couple of contests. In one well-known contest, I received my (not winning) scores after the contest was over. The scores were all in the nineties except for one judge who’d given me a seventy because she couldn’t “relate” to my protagonist. That score and the rejection sat with me for a long while, especially since something similar had happened at a different regional competition. But the thing is, I knew Free Falling was a good book. Eight of ten judges, dozens of ARC readers, and my momma had told me so. After the disappointment subsided, I realized that I wanted to self-publish the novel. This was years ago before self-publishing was as ubiquitous and relatively uncontroversial as it now. Still, in that moment, I had that revelation: I didn’t want to put Free and her story in the hands of people who insisted they could not relate to her. Frankly, I didn’t think they deserved her. That revelation set me on a path of growth and discovery, introduced friendships I still have to this day, and reminded me that at any time in the publishing process, I could take my proverbial ball and go play with it somewhere else.
Rejection as Reconstruction
Sometimes rejection means tearing something down to its foundation and rebuilding it. This reconstruction might look like a genre change, killing characters, or even resting our proverbial pens down and walking away for a season. When it’s all said and done, reconstruction allows for building stronger foundations, sturdier walls, and sounder stories. Reconstruction presents the possibilities for stories that last, characters that become icons, and books that stand the test of time.
Rejection as Renewal
If reconstruction is about your manuscript, renewal is about your mind. Renewal arises from rejection when we allow ourselves to rest following a rejection, especially a painful one. None of this reshaping is about denying or masking your feelings. Rejections hurt, and we’re allowed to feel that hurt. But when that hurt results in harm, then we’ve allowed rejection to take on an outsized role in the equation. Rejection is just for a season, not for a lifetime. Stepping back and giving yourself the grace of renewal, prepares you to get back in the game even stronger than when you started.
Rejection as Revolution
You get rejected often enough, you begin to see things in a new light. Ryan Coogler has talked about facing rejections early in his career, saying "For every one acceptance letter, I got hundreds of no thank-yous from actors and studios." Coogler goes on to say, ““I still struggle with doubt, every day... I’ve dealt with disappointments, man, like big time, and... to be a filmmaker is to (be okay with) rejection.” But despite his doubts, despite his years of rejections, Coogler persisted, and now his latest movie, Sinners, is closing in on becoming one of the top ten highest grossing horror movies ever. And Coogler’s deal with Warner Brothers for the film had people buzzing because it included final cut control, a percentage of box office revenue including opening weekend, and the reversion of film rights to him after twenty-five years. Now that’s revolutionary. Comfort, ease, and acceptance don’t breed change, they don’t build the strength it takes to survive in industries that thrive on being exclusionary. And because of that, perseverance, moving forward despite rejection and to spite rejection are acts of creative revolution.
I’ll leave you with this excerpt from Theodore Roosevelt’s Citizenship in a Republic speech. I hope you allow it to sit with and within you, that you don the words like armour, wearing them as protection the next time rejection comes calling in any area of your life.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
That wraps up this week’s Five On Fridays. Thank you for subscribing and reading. If you found this newsletter helpful, please share it on social media and forward it to your writer friends. Every share helps. Happy writing!
-Grace