Rejection: It’s Okay to Feel the Pain

Writers get rejected. It’s part of the job. But the frequency with which it happens doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Recently I threw my name into consideration for a contract position I wanted. It would have meant a significant cut in my rate, but an increase in my quality of life. I would have been writing about a topic that would have brought me joy. It was a job I also would have excelled at doing. But therein lies the problem—I was overqualified and too expensive. Or maybe they just didn’t like my pitch or tone or samples. Who knows? I never heard. It was one of those situations where you apply and hear crickets.

The rejection hurt. Even though I knew it was a long shot, being ignored didn’t feel good. It never does. But it is not uncommon. Writers often face silence and nothingness when we send out our ideas, work, and self into the world.

It happens. Editors reject queries. Producers turn down pitches. Agents pass on manuscripts. It’s not uncommon or unexpected. But what do you do with the feelings that come along with the dismissal? How do you recover? How do you help trying when you’ve been told no a hundred or a thousand times?

You just do. You have no choice. That’s the job. It’s that simple and that difficult.

Feel the pain and loss. Give yourself permission to feel badly about the rejection, for a time. Then move on. You have no other choice, not if you’re going to have a career in writing. I hate to say, you need to get comfortable with rejection, even if it stings.

For some this is an easier act than others.

Some may say being a writer demands a thick skin. I disagree. It takes resilience. As writers, I think we are better served by feeling the depths of our emotions than denying them. It is exactly those feelings that make us wallow in our losses that we must tap into to write about people. Like actors, we would be lost without empathy and the ability to feel deeply what it means to be human. Numbing our emotions to protect ourselves from the pain of rejection, numbs us to the very emotions we need to write. It’s counterproductive to our end goal.

So forget toughening up to take the hits. Feel the pain. Embrace it. Just don’t personalize it. A pass on your pitch isn’t a referendum on you as a person. It’s a pass on your idea, your pitch, your package, your samples. There are too many variables to know what prompted the rejection. Too many reasons for turning you down. In most cases, the rejection happens before the person doing the rejection even meets you or speaks with you, so how could it be personal? It’s not, even if it may feel that way.

I’ve written before about rejection and how to handle it, so I won’t repeat it here. Instead, I will tell you that it’s okay to hurt when you are ghosted or receive a terse “no” or “pass” in your mailbox. Of the responses, silence may be the worst. It leaves too many unanswered questions.

You must process those feelings and questions. Feel the hurt and then move on. Keep moving on until you get that “yes” you so desire. If you give up, you ‘ll never get to the fun part. So chin up. You’re not alone. We’ve all been there.

Now go write.