Hello, dreamers. It’s been nearly four weeks now since I sent out my first round of queries for Seven Days on Samarkand. Out of ten queries, I’ve now received four rejections. Of those remaining, at least two are unlikely to respond if they aren’t interested in seeing more. However, I appear to be in at least a couple “maybe piles”, as they’re called. Who knows? I may yet get a partial or full request in the coming weeks.

Unfortunately, rejection is to be expected. That doesn’t make it sting any less. After pouring your heart and soul into a project, actually putting in the time and effort to write an entire novel, rejection feels that much more personal. It’s hard to deal with, but you can’t let a “no” (or several) stop you. So this week, I’d like to discuss every writer’s least-favorite topic:

Dealing with Rejection

One of the most popular questions in the writing community is “What’s the most important skill for a writer?”

And every time I see it, I respond “the ability to deal with rejection.”

The fact is, rejection is a big part of writing. No matter how good of a writer you are, you can’t escape the simple fact that writing is an art form, and art is subjective. That means you can write a piece that’s well-written, wholly original, tense and compelling, and there will still be plenty of people who don’t like it.

It’s not an indictment on your work. It’s not a reflection of who you are. It doesn’t make you a bad writer, or a failure, or in any way “less than”. But it can feel like it sometimes. I tend to feel like I have a leg up on a lot of writers in this department. Partly because I’ve been submitting short stories to literary magazines since 2017. Partly because, really half the time I still don’t think I know what the hell I’m doing.

But the thing is, no matter how many times it happens, no matter how hard you try to prepare yourself for it, no matter how much you tell yourself it’s coming, it never stops hurting. Every rejection stings, at least a little bit. To this day, every time I get a rejection from a lit mag I’ve subbed to over and over, there’s still that little pang of disappointment.

For querying writers, rejection becomes a way of life. You know you’re going to get a lot of no’s before that first yes. So when you set out to query, one of the first things you need to do is figure out how you’re going to deal with the flurry of rejections. From what I’ve seen, both in my own experience and from other writers, here’s a quick guide to doing what every writer hates to do:

1. Breathe

There’s always a shock at first, no matter how anticipated it was. Take a moment and just breathe. You knew this was a likely outcome. It will be okay. Take a slow, deep breath. Get up and stretch. Go for a walk. Get those endorphins pumping.

Remind yourself that this isn’t a reflection of who you are. Remember that writing is subjective. Maybe they liked your story; they just didn’t think it was a good fit for them (a lot of agents say as much in their letters). And that brings us to the next step:

2. Read the letter

I know it hurts. Trust me, I know. But once the shock has worn off and you’re back on your feet, take a moment to read the letter. If it’s personalized, that can be a good sign; as with magazine editors, many agents only provide feedback on queries they liked (just not enough). Read it even if it’s a form letter; literary agents always try to let you down easy, and it might actually help you feel better. Plus, some agents actually have multiple forms they use, one for each of several possible issues (I received one that said the agent loved my premise, but didn’t connect with the sample pages).

3. Conduct a Post-Mortem

“Post mortem” is what I call the analysis I make after any rejection, be it a query or a short story. If the agent provided feedback, make a note of it. If you see the same things multiple times, or feedback that mirrors what you’ve heard from beta readers, it can help you to identify critical flaws in your query materials or manuscript.

If it was a form rejection, look closely at the exact materials you sent them (you should always keep track of exactly what you send to each agent). If they said no faster than others did, there might be an issue with something they requested that no one else did. If agents seem to be taking longer with larger samples (say, ten pages as opposed to five), the issue might lie in your hook. You can learn something from every rejection.

4. Make light of it

Believe me when I say this is crucial: find a way to laugh about your rejection. Some querying writers hold mock “celebrations” for each rejection, in which they basically treat themselves to a drink or a dessert. I’ve heard of authors who wallpapered rooms with stickers of rejection letters, or added one loop to a knitting project for each “no”. After a my partner joked “Maybe your book is just bad” following my first rejection, I started playing Bad by Michael Jackson every time I receive one.

It can be as simple as laughing at yourself. Try some self-deprecating humor. Just get yourself laughing and smiling again. It really is the best medicine. And when you turn rejection into a joke, it eases the pain.

5. Resolve to keep going

Once you’ve made it past all that, it’s time to get back to work. Your querying journey isn’t finished. This is just a bump in the road, one of many. You’ll get there so long as you keep going. Take what lessons you can, look over your materials, and look ahead. To the next query. The next round. The next project.

In the end, rejection is a part of life. It’s adversity. But people triumph over adversity every day. Men have walked on the moon. You can find a literary agent. So get back out there, and keep telling your story. Shout it from the rooftops. Your agent is out there, and the only way you won’t find each other is if you give up now. – MK