I went on a food tasting tour in Manhattan’s Little Italy last week. The guide was an actor. While we walked and sampled pizza, burrata, prosciutto wrapped figs, blackout cupcakes and other fattening delicacies—which she, by the way, did not eat—she told us a bit about herself, including a course she took to learn to cope with rejection because she has to audition for parts and needs to develop a thicker skin.
The remedy? Several times each day, she’s to go up to strangers on the street and ask for something they have like their newspaper or change for the bus or a drink of water. You get the idea. Ultimately, the goal is that she’ll learn to handle rejection easily and won’t hesitate to put herself out there.
As a writer, who has submitted manuscripts to publishers and agents, rejections are both my reality and my nightmare. I don’t have trouble pitching—that’s child’s play compared to being in court and explaining a complicated concept when my adversary keeps interrupting with objections. But the rejections are different. Each time it happens, I have to regroup, try to learn from the rejection—and then remind myself that it’s only one person’s opinion. It often takes a while before I gather myself together and submit again. I know, having been in the work force, that it’s the same with applying for a job I really want. It’s certainly true for an actor who has to audition.
If like me, you’re ambitious and continue to strive for the brass ring, no matter what field you’re in or how successful you are, there will be rejections. The worst ones may be the “almosts.” You get positive feedback either because of a second interview or the request for the full manuscript, and you start to think you’ve got it. Then the email appears saying while it or you were great, it just wasn’t right for them. Those are the rejections that really set me back. In fact, a simple and impersonal, printed “this is not for us” is almost kinder.
I’m not going to stop submitting, at least not this week, and I’m not going to do a rejection exercise—real life is bad enough. I am going to try to remain upbeat. The alternative, writing, but not submitting, is intolerable. At least that’s what I tell myself. Anyone else have a thought?
