I once dated a wonderful guy. He was funny, smart and good-looking. Generous. A great listener. My family loved him. And I loved him, too, except not in the way I wanted to. For some reason, he wasn’t quite right for me.
I once was dumped by a guy. He told me he wanted space, which since we were both independent and spent lots of time apart, was really code for ‘I’m over you’. It hurt, absolutely. And for awhile there I thought ‘I’m obviously way too boring/emotional/freckly/fat’. But that breakup wasn’t the end of my dating life. Other people found me tolerable, even delightful 😜. I just wasn’t right for that person.
And I’ve realised that rejection in the writing world is often the same. The work might be great, but there’s a mismatch.
When we receive a rejection, it’s easy to blame ourselves. To spiral into thoughts of ‘my writing is shit’ (which reminds me of the time I accidentally called my manuscript a manushit) and ‘I’ll never get anywhere’ and ‘where’s the chocolate?’ And sure, there must be times when the submission wasn’t up to scratch. It was rushed out, not proofread well, or it’s an early career submission. It has good elements but needs some work.
But over time, as we improve, other factors come into play. The journal already commissioned an essay on belly button lint. We sent a dark story and they’re looking for a funny piece (or vice versa). The style doesn’t resonate with the competition judge (even though another judge will love it).
On Monday, I had dinner with two writer friends. Both women are very talented. One writes screenplays, memoir, novels, short stories, essays and more. The other writes plays, short stories and essays and is an accomplished actor. Both have won awards and fellowships. Both have been published, one in book form. These women are dynamos. And yet, as we ate our yellow curry, they spoke about the rejection emails they’d received the past few days. I chimed in to say I’d had recent rejections, too. We commiserated over pieces we thought were strong, yet were not accepted or didn’t place in competitions. And as we whined and laughed and wined, I had a minor epiphany (can an epiphany be minor?) —
Rejections don’t mean our work isn’t good.
Turns out, the writing world is like the dating world. Not everyone will fall in love with our work (and we won’t fall in love with everything we read, either). As with dating, we shouldn’t try to be who we’re not, to please someone else. They’ll like us or they won’t. We’ll be rejected for sure, but acceptances will come when we least expect it.
And in the meantime, we can write.
Fiona Robertson 
Love it! Especially the manushit!! Ha 😀 xxx
Yes, a bit Freudian hey?! xx
I feel a kinship with you’re manushit slip up x
Thank you Melanie, I feel very understood 🙂
Um, that should be *your ~embarrassed~
I knew what you meant! x
Well put, Fiona. It is very tempting to significantly revise a piece after it has been rejected, but it’s important to be reminded that there are other factors at play – it’s not all about the writing. Thank you!
Yes, it’s sometimes hard to remember when distracted by the sting of a rejection! Thanks for reading my lovely friend ❤
But our manuscripts feel a bit like our babies, Fiona. It’s really painful when we discover that someone else thinks our beautiful child isn’t as perfect as we think they are.
YES. That too. Thanks for reading Maureen xx
Your words really resonated with me, Fiona. I have been on a writing contest judging panel and found the task really difficult-luckily, Its not my responsibility alone. Even now I am second-guessing myself- would I have chosen differently if I were in a different mood? And of course, I am feeling badly for those pieces and writers who were not chosen.
Ah, so interesting to hear your perspective Sonia, ‘from the other side’. I always suspected it must be a tricky job being a competition judge, and now I know it’s true!
Luckily,it is not my decision alone there is a selection committee. We are all judging independently and then we will evaluate the results.