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Rejection Has Made Me a Better Writer

I’m a glass-half-full kind of gal -- that’s probably why I see rejection letters as the best things that could’ve happened to me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I kick up my heels if one lands in the mailbox, but now that I’ve been “in the business” three years, I’ve learned a thing or two about the craft of writing, the publishing world and myself that I have to credit rejections for having taught me.

How it all started…

Editors from two local magazines accepted my first short stories, boosting my confidence. A couple writing classes later, I attended a children’s book festival and heard about the Delacorte contest for unpublished writers of young adult novels. The deadline? December 31st. The month on the calendar? October.

I had some work to do.

And promptly did a ton wrong. I pounded out my manuscript in record time, spending nights and weekends at the keyboard after putting in full days in the classroom. My hair needed cutting, my house needed cleaning, but that deadline loomed and I wanted – no, I needed – to finish on time. And I did: printed and postmarked on the same December day. Then in April of the following year (2001), the phone call came. I was a finalist – one of four – but no winner had been chosen. The good news: the editor’s ‘rejection’ of my book as a winner included positive comments about my writing and an offer to look at revisions.

It was my welcome to the world of children’s publishing.

Admittedly, a major part of my writing routine is leaving the computer. When I’m stuck or need to figure the wording of something, I get up. Making the bed or doing the dishes is usually just the ticket to get me through that sticky sentence. If I need even more time, I’ll bring up that load from the dryer. Or let the dogs out again. Or have another Pepsi. But regardless, I’m writing. My mind is going over form and function, it’s trying on sentences and word choices like outfits for that upcoming first date, changing and discarding them into a messy heap until discovering the perfect one.

There’s a reason they call it work

So of course I did revisions. But what did I know about revising? Very little, come to find out. A few months later – after what amounted to a detailed line edit really – another encouraging, ‘positive’ rejection arrived. I dabbed my eyes and moved forward. I read, attended conferences, subscribed to newsletters about publishing. And I wrote.

Flash forward to February 2002. With my second YA manuscript in tow, I headed to the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators mid-winter conference. My first national conference, and I knew – this was the way to learn about the business. But it made me wonder: if I’d gotten published right away, would I have been there? Would I have even written that second manuscript? Would I have heard speak a top agent and senior editor just happening to be looking for the type of story tucked under my arm?

If one rejection is good, more must be better, right?

Not necessarily. In children’s publishing, some say it takes an average of nine years – nine – to break out with that first book. But patience isn’t my strong point and good books take time to write (learned that from flying through the first one). What about articles, though? I’d learned a thing or two the last couple years from reading all those articles about writing and I’d been teaching writing to students for fifteen years— There it was: magazine writing. A chance to hone my skills, add clips to my file and learn more about the business.

But, like the contest, I screwed that up, too. I sent out a dozen letters with self-addressed, stamped envelopes asking for submission guidelines to various magazines I’d snatched off library shelves. As each came in, I dashed off another article. It didn’t take long for those rejections to make their way back to me either, and no wonder: a pile of photocopied guidelines drove my work.

Patience may not be a character trait of mine, but stubbornness is. I took a critical look at where I went wrong and started over with a new focus. I needed to write about what I knew at that moment: teaching at-risk teens, YA literature and struggling as a fiction writer. I’d write for those markets which matched my expertise.

My metaphoric light bulb moment.

Within two years, I not only penned a regular column for education magazine, but sold articles to The Writer, Writer OnLine, The Institute for Children’s Literature, SmartWriters.com and Children’s Book Insider.

Those early rejections showed me what I should be writing.

And my two YA manuscripts?

They’re still manuscripts. BUT, different editors have asked to see revisions. That senior editor from the 2002 SCBWI conference had my manuscript two years before I got his revision letter, and he’s already asked for the opening chapters of third manuscript.

And that book from the Delacorte contest? It’s gotten terrific rejections by top editors and a wonderful agent. Each saw similar strengths and weaknesses in the manuscript; another good thing rejection letters can teach: what works and what doesn’t.

I’ll get back to that story one day, and use my past rejections to guide me.

All speeches and articles are copyrighted by, and are the property of, Laurie Thurston, and may not be reprinted without permission of the author.