Rejection is a funny old thing. Well, what I mean is it’s a strange feeling – actually there’s nothing remarkably funny about it at all. It comes in many different guises – but it always feels the same. Think back to when you were young, sitting opposite the object of your desires, conversation flowing freely, banter bouncing back and forth… and then you lean in… thinking… this must be the moment… only to find the object of your desires looking back at you with panic in his eyes, his head turning sharply to the right as he pulls back.
Could there ever be a worse moment? That small gap of misunderstanding hanging in the air between you as it looks vaguely bewildered back and forth in search of a comfortable place again before taking a dive into the silence getting louder around you.
What goes through your mind? You frantically search through the last hours, looking for clues. It’s a murder mystery and you’re the slaughtered victim with a sharp, wooden stake thrust through your heart. Not exactly the kind of thrust you were expecting. You look inside yourself, into your mind, scanning your body, trying to see yourself as he does. The reasoning is pitiful. Wrong time? Wrong place? Wrong dress? Wrong age? Wrong… wrong… wrong… and nothing can make it right. In the aftermath of rejection, all sense of reasoning flies happily out of the window looking to hitch a ride on a passing hot air balloon full of dreams.
Well, that’s what it’s like being a writer. You get used to rejection. It’s part and parcel of the process. You spend massive amounts of time nurturing a sea of words, inspiration ebbing and flowing, but at the end of the day you have no control over the size of the waves and rejection is all consuming when it slaps you hard in the face. For a while it’s really easy to allow yourself to drown and wallow in self pity. That first heart sinking moment when you realise that someone doesn’t want you – or your work – is a pitiful passion killer. All your words, your ideas, your chapters and your pages go flying into a fire that’s destined to quickly burn out.
But with all rejection, careful thought and Jack Daniels bring a certain amount of clarity over time and as the negative responses trickle in, you start to build a wall of immunity to deflect the heartache and the length of time that rejection stings seems to get shorter. I guess it’s a lot like love or infatuation – you soon get over it, and if you don’t, you learn to live with it, and when you eventually get to that place, you’ll never regret that you never tried.
“Rejected pieces aren’t failures; unwritten pieces are.” Greg Daugherty
Mags Winthrop Blog 