Welcome back to A Writing Life, our series of monthly articles written by long-time 26 member and contributor Rob Self-Pierson.
Like many of us, Rob straddles the line between commercial and creative writing. Each month, we invite him to share stories from his writing life, reflecting on what it means to live as a writer today.
It’s September, and Rob is facing rejection of his book idea. Staying upbeat, he reflects on what you can learn from a knock-back…
“in 1962, Dick Rowe at Decca Records turned down four lads from Liverpool…” – The Beatles, publicity photo by Astrid Kirchherr, 1962
You’ve got to be OK with rejection.
That’s as true in everyday life as it is journeying through your writing life. For many of us, I realise, these are the same thing.
Not everyone will like your writing, or you. Dear reader, I’m going to shock you: not everyone likes my writing. Or me. I know! But seriously – rejection is a big part of growing as a writer.
Rejection was probably the biggest spark to my own writing life. Back in 2009, while blogging about my moonlit journeys around Britain, a literary agent got in touch. She was soon representing me and my ‘Moonwalking’ project. She saw potential. She saw a book.
Sadly, she found no publishers who shared her vision. I have a hazy memory of a series of polite rejections. Praise for my idea. Praise for my writing. But a question ending each email: ‘Rob Self-who?’
The more I reflected on what felt like unfairness – it was a time when supermarkets were selling one in five books, and a large majority of those written by celebrities – the hotter burned my fire to succeed. I let go of the agent, completed my year of moonwalks, and planned my next adventure. I joined 26 and started a copywriting business. I would later self-publish both Moonwalking and Twinned with.
Back to today, and I’ve received a fresh rejection. Complimentary again. In fact, a warm, kind and generous ‘I’m afraid it’s not for me’. This time for a project you’ll be familiar with: A Writing Life. I pitched to a publisher a book focused on what it means to be a writer today, which I explore in these articles, and will soon interrogate further through a Substack (watch this space). Alas, as I sit down to write this month, the project has experienced its first knock-back.
I’m disappointed of course. I find others’ belief in my work a great motivator. But the fire inside still sizzles, and I’ll continue to explore a writing life, and one day I’ll produce the book another way. Meeting many rejections over the years – in both my creative projects and commercial work – I’ve become pragmatic about these things.
I know that good can come from both sharing your work and seeing as it gets rejected. But perhaps you’ve faced rejection recently and your bubble of enthusiasm has been burst, and you’re thinking: No, Rob, rejection’s the worst. No positive can come of it, you fool.
I get you. But allow me to share what I’ve come to understand.
First, that being rejected means you took a risk, embraced your vulnerability (which I’ve written about before), and actively sought the views of another on something you believed in. Credit to you for that. You did something big. You invited criticism. Don’t stop. Don’t allow one rejection to close you off to the views of others.
Instead, try what screenwriter James Henry once advised me to do: Invite plenty of criticism. Say thank you. Use the stuff that you believe will make your writing better. Smile and ignore the rest. Even the toughest experience of rejection can reveal a way forwards.
You should also remember that rejection of your ideas or your writing is rarely personal. That is, it’s not a rejection of you. When I was an undergrad submitting my writing each week, I took feedback to heart. Rejection of my arguments in essays, rejection of my plot twists in screenplays. They hurt. Why don’t people like me? I’ve since learned that although I give myself to my writing, I am not my writing. Keeping distance helps tell criticism from insult.
It’s also worth considering that just because your ideas or writing get rejected, it doesn’t mean they’re bad. It might be the world isn’t ready for them yet – or that they need finetuning. It could be you’ve shared with the wrong person. Story goes that in 1962, Dick Rowe at Decca Records turned down four lads from Liverpool because guitar groups were ‘on their way out’. EMI’s George Martin thought different and signed The Beatles to the Parlophone label a few months later.
There’s a thing I do these days in response to rejection: I make myself vulnerable again. I double down. Why? Because I’ve learned rejection is never far from the next opportunity.
Which reminds me – I’m delighted to share that I’ll be hosting a panel discussion of A Writing Life at this year’s Wordstock, hosted by Bloomsbury Festival. John Simmons, Olivia Sprinkel and Anuskha Shah will join me to share stories from their own writing lives.
When one door closes, lean into another. Feel for movement, look for light. Then give it a push. Who knows where it will lead you?
Together we go
Rejection can be the making of a writing life. Next time it happens, try not to take it to heart, applaud yourself for starting dialogue and being vulnerable, and remember they might have got it wrong anyway. Keep writing until you find your George Martin.
Onwards,
Rob
If you’d like to share in response, message Rob via Max at 26. Also, find out more about Rob’s studio or connect with him.