Dear author - it's not personal
Dear word wrangler,
I’ve got a little tough love to share today, but you need to hear it if you want your beautiful book in the world.
Rejection isn’t personal.
I see far too many authors want to give up on their dream because of rejection.
Rejection hurts
Let’s not sugar coat it. Rejection hurts. You can be the most self-aware, meditation-doing, boundary-having person in town, and rejection can still hurt. It’s not fun to be told “no”.
But it’s part of life, and it’s definitely part of your journey as an author.
Agent turned you down? Not personal
Imagine you get thousands of letters every single year asking you to help people publish their recipes online. Somehow, in this universe, your job is “recipe publishing mogul.”
You have to analyze each. Figure out how it would taste. Work out which blogs would like that recipe and whether you can persuade them to publish it.
You’re not going to choose many, are you? Each one takes time and consideration.
Now imagine instead of a few line recipe, people want to send you 70,000 or 100,000 or 250,000 word novels. You’ve got a pile of first chapters, and you’re trying to choose which ones you want to go ahead and ask for the whole book. You have to read each, analyze it, think about where it would fit in the market, and figure out if you can sell the thing.
That’s the life of a literary agent. Unless they’ve got a time machine or Data from Star Trek’s reading speed, maths alone should tell you they can’t respond to every submission. And those they do respond to? Not many of them will make it to representation.
It’s a numbers game, and it’s a numbers game with stiff competition.
Rejection from an agent isn’t personal. It’s part of their job.
Someone you love doesn’t get it? Not personal
Here’s the hard truth. If you’re a writer, most people in your life won’t get it. Being an author is like being in a glorious secret club, and those who aren’t in the club don’t understand it.
When you show your book to your friend or aunt or partner and you don’t get the response you’re wanting, it’s not a fault with you. It’s not a fault with them, either.
They’re just not your audience.
Either they don’t know what to say, so they don’t say much. Or they want to say the right thing so you get a generic “it’s good.”
If they’re not an experienced alpha reader, beta reader, or editor, they’re not going to give you the kind of feedback you want. It’s not in their skillset.
You wouldn’t go to a hand-made clothing emporium and ask the head designer to come fit you a new bathroom suite.
You wouldn’t ask your friend who hates carrot cake to taste test your latest carrot cake recipe.
So don’t be surprised if your loved ones who aren’t in the literary world are frankly terrible at feedback.
It’s not their fault and it doesn’t mean your work is only suitable for wrapping fish and chips in. You just asked the wrong people.
Someone just wants to be an ass? Could be personal (but still not your problem)
Some people will try and crap all over your writing dreams. I hope you don’t meet many of them, but it can happen. You share your beloved work with a friend or partner and they tell you everything wrong with it.
Now I don’t know this person so I don’t know why they said that about your work. But I do know it’s not a reflection on your talent.
Maybe they don’t like your genre.
Maybe they don’t like to read.
Maybe they’re having a bad day.
Maybe they’re a cotton headed ninnymuggins who likes tearing people down.
Whatever the reason? Not your problem. Does that mean your work’s perfect? No, no one writes perfect prose first time. But don’t take advice or feedback from people who aren’t actively trying to help you improve in a constructive way.
Especially don’t take feedback from people who don’t understand the craft of writing.
Make friends with rejection
Rejection is going to be part of your journey as a writer, and that’s fine. You don’t have to attach your value as an artist to it.
Practice making rejection a neutral thing. They didn’t like it, and that’s fine. That agent didn’t offer representation, and that’s fine. Some readers didn’t like it, and that’s fine.
It doesn’t have to disturb your equilibrium. Now this takes practice. But you can get better at it, and the better you get, the easier it will be.
Rejection means you’re putting your work out there. You’re saying to the world “I wrote this and I’m proud of it.” That takes courage and grit and a certain amount of stubbornness.
Stop rejecting yourself. Start boosting yourself and giving yourself the encouragement you’re looking for.
You’ve got this.
Yours in ink and magic,
Allie