“You Should Be Used To Rejection By Now — God Knows Enough People Have Rejected You In Your Life!”

Saying that writers have to deal with rejection is kinda like saying the wind blows in a hurricane – a helluva understatement. And, depending on how each writer defines 'success', they may never achieve it even after going through years of soul-crushing rejections from literary agents and publishers.  

Every writer deals with rejection in their own way. Some cry. Some drink. Some slip into depression or denial. Some do all of the above, and more. You have to have a thick skin to be in this business. While most rejections are based on (someone's) sound judgement and/or business reasons, it's hard not to look at a rejection letter as a 'you suck' letter:) 

So how do I deal with rejection? A lot of cursing, self-loathing, and more bouts of impostor syndrome, which is then usually followed by a glass of wine (or several), a snuggle with my dog, or a few hours on my boat. Then it's back to the grind.  

So let me tell you about my first ever rejection, back when I was much younger and so naive. Not too many years ago, we had these weekly and monthly literary works that we called 'magazines', and they were actually printed on paper. It's true, though many Millennials and Gen Z'ers don't believe it, or, if they do, they assume that it was just after the days of using quill pens and ink. 

If you're old enough to remember the days when bookstores had literally hundreds of magazines on the shelf, you may remember George. George was a glossy monthly magazine centered on the theme of politics-as-lifestyle co-founded by John F. Kennedy Jr. I always loved their tagline, “Not Just Politics As Usual”, and I looked forward to reading every issue as soon as it hit the newsstands. Newsstands? 

I've always considered myself a little bit of a political junky, so I guess that's what made me gravitate to George. And as a newly minted aspiring writer, I wanted nothing more than to write an article and have it published there. Visions of thousands of fawning fan letters and Peabody and Pulitzer awards drove my fantasies and my fingers across the keyboard. 

I wrote an article that I called, “Are You A Democrat Or A Republican? Are You Sure?” which talked about how our political beliefs are too complex to fit easily into two simple 'buckets'. Instead, political beliefs are really on a spectrum that ranges from the Atilla the Huns and fascists on the right (funny/not funny how fascists are making a comeback, but I digress) to the most progressive, Marxist/Leninist, hippie-dippy commune and free love adherents on the left. 

I argued that so many of the ideas that divide us are actually 'litmus tests' that the media and political elite use to pigeonhole us. Take, for example, the issue of abortion/reproductive rights: if you're pro-choice then you must be a Democrat, and if you're pro-life you must be a Republican. Or, if you support the Second Amendment then you have to be a Republican since supposedly 'all' Democrats oppose gun ownership and want to make it a crime. 

I thought it was a nice, simple way to make the point that we're all complex animals and not so easily lumped into left versus right and maybe, just maybe, people would see that everyone has a lot more in common, at least politically, than they thought.  

I envisioned my article ending political fighting and bringing the country together as one, working together to make us a better, stronger world. I imagined Congress actually reaching across the aisle, holding hands and singing 'We Are The World' as we prepared to enter the next century as a more loving nation. My expectations increased: I wanted more than just a Peabody or Pulitzer. I expected the Nobel Peace Prize. 

Obviously, it was not to be, and not just my Nobel prize and world peace. My article was rejected. Brutally rejected. OK, maybe not so brutally, maybe it was even somewhat professional, but for an aspiring writer and someone submitting an article for the first time, any rejection was soul-crushing.  

So, why was I rejected? When I sent the query letter – via snail mail, this being the mid-90's and publishers would never accept something via that new and untrusted medium called 'email' – I was told, basically, they didn't take unsolicited articles. Ever. 

They reached out to people that they wanted to have as contributors. Politicians. Movie stars. Sports stars. Leading authors that already had a 'name' that would attract readers. In other words, NOT me. 

They didn't actually come right out and say to never darken their mailroom with another query letter or to kindly lose their address, but that's how it felt. So, when all was said and done, the article that I toiled over, that I loved and felt really invested in, never saw the light of day. 

Hmmm, maybe that's why we're in such a political shit show today, much worse than back in the 90's……. Maybe I could have saved us from all of this anger and turmoil and violence…… Maybe I should dust the article off and update it for today's world…. Let me have my little fantasy.  I'm mentally 'writing' and rehearsing my Nobel Prize acceptance speech again…..