Wednesday, April 29, 2015


Misery loves company.

The one thing that no one prepares you for adequately as a writer is how much rejection there truly is in this career.

I love writing. I write for myself. That’s been my goal from the beginning. I’ve had the luxury of doing this by virtue of time and lack of success. Though things are changing, I’ve done this too long to change now. I try to please myself and then I confidently strike out to to look for like minds who will appreciate my genius and help me toward my goal of intergalactic domination and basic income.

However, even shielded behind such a safe metric for success, I have been stunned by the sheer power of consistent rejection. 

I write a lot. I query a lot. A lot. I send out emails, and letters, packages and good vibes and in return I get hurt.

It's been my schedule to send out five queries per week for whatever projects I have. A total of five. Why five? Why not more? Because that’s all the rejection I can handle.

At five rejections a week I can just maintain the walls. I have just the power to fight off that amount of erosion, of doubt, of hopelessness, of facing a one in a million a chance to reach the goals I aspire to. It’s daunting and it’s relentless.

I try to look at the bright side, to tell myself that “I’m trying.” I mount my rejections on the back of a door as sick trophies to remind me of… something. I print out the emails, don’t tear up the letters, but tape them all up to see, now ten papers thick in my study. And there they hang. It’s a ritual not unlike flushing a toilet I guess.

Sometimes I get personal rejections. They’re rare. Often they’re form letters but usually it's silence. “If you haven’t heard from us in six weeks, we’ve passed on your project. Go die in a ditch, you talentless hack,” is a common declaration on queryable websites.

I’m by nature a happy and confident person, but I tell you, I’ve been tested by this career.

Writing is about honesty and vulnerability. It requires an artist sensitivity. And there's the rub: sensitivity. I bleed on paper and then try to sell my bandages. Of course rejection hurts - I have open wounds.

I'm getting better at rejection. It's part of the job. Since I've had some success, I'm excited about the future. But this took time and effort. I had to climb a mountain of No's for each Yes. 

For therapy and as a public service to writers everywhere, I’ve decided to explore this dark underbelly of the creative process with the help of my friends.  

Over the next few months as space allows on the Blog Mansion I’m going to host a wide variety of authors and other people in the publishing world to delve into rejection. I’m hoping to learn something, or at the least recognize that I'm not alone in this. It's easy to forget.

Stay tuned in this space.

PS - there's a give-away on Goodreads for THE BRAND DEMAND at the top of this page. Three copies signed. It's a great book. Go enter if you haven't. Or better yet, buy a copy from your local respectable independent bookstore or the less respectable online sources that are ever so convenient.



  1. I don't know whether to laugh a lot or cry a little. Actually, you're NOT alone and neither are any writers. Actors suffer the same slings and arrows of R E J E C T I O N But I won't bore you by telling you how I found this out !

    1. Love to hear it. Send me an email. Maybe I can feature you on the Rejection Project.