Swapna Kishore is a software consultant who lives in Bangalore, India with her family. She has written many technical books and articles, and is now also writing fiction and essays. Her fiction has been published online and in print.

In the last few weeks I received ten rejections in a row. Okay, so they didn't come on the same day; no, the torture was spread over a few weeks, somewhat like Chinese water torture. Each rejection dripped on my head while I peeked at my submission sheet and wondered which one would be next.

I've been trying to write stories for over two years now. I've managed many, not managed many more. I know rejections are part of the game. I've heard all that they say. I've even said it to others: If you don't get rejections, it means you are not sending stuff out. Even the best of them get rejected. Didn't Asimov get a rejection? (or was that Stephen King?) Come on, be positive. The editor's not rejecting you, he/she's just not the right editor for your baby. Send it out again. A rejection is not a rejection of you, it is just a story that did not fit a publication. Likes and dislikes vary.

All that notwithstanding, that string of rejections hurt. I could have taken one without any hurt. Two? Okay, a teeny bit of a pinch. Three. Well, bearable. I'm a tough cookie, you know. But ten? I was down in the dumps and I couldn't even pretend otherwise. Never mind that some of the rejections were 'nice' rejections from literary or professional markets, one even containing alternate marketing suggestions complete with the editor's name and web address.

The funny part was, I felt ashamed to face my feelings. I found reasons to postpone reading my e-mails or checking the mail box. As soon as I spotted the header of the mail from an editor, I remembered some more cooking to do, some tax work, some dusting. One corner of my mind cringed: Not one more rejection! Please God, give me good news. I'd rather not get any mail than get a rejection today. Please God, make the phone line go dead so that I can't read my mail. It was that bad.

Finally, I got tired of feeling miserable. I slunk out of my little non-writing corner and tried to understand what the hurt was about. Slowly, fortified with dark chocolate, I examined the list of rejections. I was amazed to see that each rejection hurt for a different reason. So I classified the different hurts of rejections--hey, I'm a writer, remember? And this is what I got:

• Some rejections made me angry with a "how dare they" feeling. This was when I thought the story was well-written and a good for the publication. And I did not have too good an opinion of that publication, so that feeling--who are they to reject! Some rejections gave me a "just my luck" slump. Again, I considered the story well-written and a good fit for the publication, and also thought reasonably well of the publication. I assumed therefore that the rejection was just because their kitty was full of accepted stories. Tough. But why me?
• Then there was the "how will I ever write" feeling. This, unfortunately, was difficult to get out of. It happened when I spotted fundamental problems in a rejected story and had no idea how to tackle them, despite workshopping it in critique groups.
• There was also a dirty, guilty feeling that went like "why did I ever submit that flawed story". It happened when I faced the fact that a corner of my mind knew the story had significant problems even before I submitted it.
• Another despairing feeling some rejections got me was "when will I get that polish in my work". Here I knew the story was good, I got a good reject, but there was that last bit of polish I just couldn't add to convert a reject to an accept. How to add that sparkle? I felt helpless. I wanted a mother figure to hold my hand and make everything okay.
• A different sort of helplessness came related to marketing and re-submitting. This "where do I submit it now" feeling was the same as the "how much time can I spend finding markets" and the "if all I do is submit, when do I write" feeling. I find market hunting, submission formatting, submitting and tracking a time and energy-consuming activity. Some rejects made me despair-- how would I ever find a market for that slightly weird story I wrote? It's not horror enough for horror, or fantasy enough for fantasy. Rejects in such cases were often with small notes from editors saying they really liked the story but they were not the right market for it.
• Towards the end of the spectrum of feeling desolate was that "Oh no! Already?" feeling. This one was awful. It happened when I slept at night after laboring over and completing a submission that brought up my submission count to my target. Next morning, my mailbox has the reject. I had not even updated my submission sheet and the count was down again. Sob!
• And finally, when there were so many the above happening without an acceptance rising on the horizon, then came the dumpiest feeling of the lot. This was the feeling that included the "Let me hide somewhere", the "I will not check my mail", the "when am I supposed to write fresh stuff if the old one keeps bouncing back", the "what am I supposed to do now", the "should I just pray". At this stage nothing worked: not those affirmations and positive thinking, not reading my old stories to tell myself I write well. This was like a bottom layer of rejection hell. Okay, maybe eleven rejections would be worse. Or maybe not; you can't drown someone who is already dead.
  Once I got this list down, I felt better. Just making this list gave me ideas on what I could do about my reaction to rejections. But my first feeling was, am I the only one who feels so low when there's a flood of rejections? How do others handle this? All of them are always so energetically talking about submissions. Am I a defeatist?

Gathering the little bit of courage left in me, I wrote a mail to my writing group with this list, also hinting at my fatigue and my inability to pull myself out of the slump, though (and oh, how vain we humans are) I tried to couch it nicely.

I was stunned by the support that rushed back. Almost everyone shared tips on how they pulled out of such slumps, but even more important, they also shared that they knew what I was feeling. One writer who is always bubbling with energy even said that while rejections don't generally hurt her because she's got lots of them, even so, rejection-only periods did get her down.

Hey, I was normal. Everyone faced some slump at a rejection, the difference was in the degree. Some got it at one rejection, some after ten. Some were so keen to avoid rejections they found reasons to not submit. All I had to do now is change the threshold at which I got down in the dumps--to, let us see--twenty-five in a row? Surely I'd get at least one acceptance for twenty-five submissions?

I kept working on understanding myself, my expectations and assumptions, and seeing what I could do to get over the block. I crawled out of the well of rejections one foothold at a time. Then one night, still listless, I wailed to my husband, "I can't write well enough!"

"I am amazed that you can write at all," he said. "I can't even think of trying."

That pulled me through. I realized that I am blessed because I can write, I can keep trying, keep submitting, keeping creating. It may be good, it may not. An editor may like it, or may say it "does not meet our current requirements." But I can write and I do write, and that is what matters. I write, therefore I am.

It is also a fact, however, that acceptances matter to me. They are not the only thing, but I need the high they give me. And if I want acceptances, I have to be ready for rejections. So I must separate my acceptance-related aspirations from my writing-related aspirations. That way, even if I am flooded by rejections, I can continue writing.

I've made a set of guidelines for myself based on what I thought of and the tips I got. There are two parts, one to focus on the submission-acceptance-rejection part, and one on the joy and craft of writing. Maybe some of them will be relevant for you, too.

Part I of my resolutions: Rejecting Rejections

• Enough submissions out at any time: The most important decision I've made is to always have enough submissions out so that a rejection hurts less because there are enough pieces out there that give a chance of an acceptance. The number often suggested is twelve or thirteen, but I am considering a higher number because sometimes online rejections come too fast and I cannot always set the balance right because I am busy in non-writing work and responsibilities. I ended up with that string of ten rejections at a time when I was too busy with non-writing work to make fresh submissions. If I cannot lower my expectations from myself, I must build up my submission count to buffer against such spates of rejects.
• Alternate plans for submitted pieces: I am also going to try identifying an alternate market for a piece when I submit it, so that if I want to submit again without revising the piece, I can do so immediately. If I had done that for the pieces I was confident about, I could have re-submitted immediately before the hurt disabled me.
• Submit only if the market is a good fit for the story: I will not, repeat, not submit a piece if I know before submitting that it does not fit a publication. I feel very stupid getting a rejection I was almost certain of.
• Submit only in publications and genres I care for: I will not waste time writing tailored pieces for markets I do not respect or care for. If they reject, and the writing has not made me learn anything or feel nice, the whole effort is wasted. I will use my energy to write pieces I like writing, and submit to markets that I want to get in. Even if they reject, I have taken a step in the right direction.
• Buffer against those almost instant response times: I will always have at least a few pieces submitted to places with a higher response time. Yes, I know that sounds stupid, but there are times when it is so necessary for my morale to have hope. Besides, most professional markets have higher response time, and I need to try out such markets, too.
• Have additional target for submissions made, not just for acceptances: Instead of having a target for only acceptances, I plan to also have a target for submissions made (which, in effect is acceptance+rejection).

As writing gurus say, rejections are a proof that you are writing and submitting and it takes courage to submit. By having this target, I will reap happiness by submission itself. I have heard of people having rejection targets, but that won't work for me because I might cheat by submitting pieces which even I know are unlikely to be accepted.
Ensure feeling of dejection stays low: I will have small treats for myself to help me out of slumps, so that the feeling does not build up. The treat could be reading a craft book, which makes me feel that I am doing something constructive, or it could just be eating dark chocolate (also constructive if some of those health magazines can be believed) or, of course, a long, long walk.

Part II of my resolutions: Accepting the joys of writing as more important

• Rejections and acceptances are only part of the writing game. More important is the writing. Amazing how I forgot that. While the joys of writing are a topic by itself, here's a bare minimum I must remember so that rejections become insignificant for me.
• I will remember to enjoy writing: I will spend some time every day writing just for the fun of it. I started writing because I enjoyed it; I don't want to forget that in all this submission-acceptance-rejection business. I will remember that the primary reason I write is because I like it, and that acceptances, while nice, are an icing on the cake.
• I will continue to improve: I will spend some time every week reading up craft books and analyzing well-crafted stories. I will invest in books and courses if needed. Rejection of past stories will be irrelevant because I am writing better stuff now.
• I will reaffirm my faith in myself and my writing: I will look up my writing affirmations at least once a day, whether or not I am feeling down. If I feel good about myself, I am less likely to get pulled down by rejections.

With all this in place, I must share something marvelous that happened after my three week slump in which I could not get myself to write. When I finally released the block and came back, I wrote two stories in two days! It was like a dam being released. And now I must return to work on them and see if I can get them in shape. Happy writing!

Copyright © 2006, Swapna Kishore