I received a rejection on a submission the other day. I half-expected one from this person, given what I’ve read about her preferences, etc., but it was a request and definitely worth a shot, right? Right. But…ouch. I still hate getting those letters.
Yes, they are the way of the publishing world. I know that, and I’m much better about receiving them than I used to be. To tell the truth, I think I’m about as good at it as I’ll ever be at accepting the rejection that is part and parcel of this business. And in the interest of efficiency, I’ve whittled the five stages of grief down to three:
1) Righteous indignation
So yeah, I zipped right through number one this time. Like I said, I was somewhat prepared for a no answer. The Wallow took place in the bathtub, where I gave myself the usual “You can do this. It’s just one person’s opinion. Other fish in the sea. somebody other there will love this book,” pep talk. Then Fodder and I hit the road. first stop, delightfully greasy hamburgers and fresh-cut fries. Then, we wandered around until something pretty caught my eye.
I’ve never had an orchid before, so it may prove to be as successful as this submission, but hey, it’s pretty and now it’s in my office. Keep your fingers crossed for this poor helpless plant, and my other submissions, will you?
How about you? Do you have a little risk/reward system going? What do you to to cheer yourself up when things don’t go your way?