Pardon my big but

All creative artists have to deal with rejection. It’s the reality of being in a competitive field where technology and globalisation are changing the game. When your work is out there waiting to find its home, and it comes back with a ‘thanks, but no thanks’, the first reaction is that it’s a rejection of you. They don't like me! ‘They’ don't even know you. What they have said ‘No’ to is a particular piece of work at a particular point in time. Does this mean the work is terrible? Possibly, but you submitted the piece when it was a good as you could get it, didn't you? Let’s assume you took care of all the basics (worked on the piece to perfection, formatted it to industry standard, complied with all submission guidelines). Once that's out of the way, there are lots of reasons that your work is pushed back. The response may be because they have just published a similar piece, maybe they have too many pieces in that genre. Sometimes, it’s about right time, right place. Unfortunately, even when you understand the logic of it, the emotion remains. Disappointment is not something you ever get used to. That's okay. You wouldn’t have an artist’s sensibilities if it didn’t sting a little. You are allowed to feel a tad sorry for yourself, but not for long.  

One of the things we tell writing students is this: persistent will win out over talent in the long run. We see many talented budding writers who give up when success doesn’t come as fast as they want. There are others whose talent may not be as great, but who dedicate themselves to improving their craft and muster the courage to send their work out, repeatedly, despite the many ‘thanks, but…’ responses they receive. 

In my early days, I received a piece of great advice from an established writer when I chewed her ear about my growing pile of rejections and feeling like a failure. She said, “Lucia, just do the work.” It’s as simple as that. Focus on doing your best writing, give it wings and let it go out in the world. Accept that not everything you write will be published. Let it come back to you with its lessons. Whatever it teaches you will help you build your ‘overnight success’—the background preparation that no one sees before it all starts to fall into place. 

You have to believe in your work before anyone else can. That might sound trite, but the truth is that the basis of believing in yourself involves exactly what my writer friend said: continuing to do the work, honing it, giving it opportunities to be accepted and not investing in rejections; in fact, despite them, trying again. Yes, you’ll bomb out, possibly many times—many ultimately successful writers have—don’t let that stop you. Every piece you write has its home, be it published and on a bookshelf or in your bottom drawer. So next time someone gives you a great big ‘but’, get off yours and have another go. No buts about it. 

Reverting to my inner toddler

At 16 months, my granddaughter still can’t form many words. Her motor skills are still developing and she has only just graduated from crawling to navigating the world on two feet. She may be tentative in her early attempts at balancing, but she doesn't give up. Often she moves hesitatingly, stretching out to grasp someone’s hand or to lean on a piece of furniture for reassurance. Even when she falls, she gets up and tries again. Last week, she managed a zombie-like walk with hands outstretched. It made us laugh, but she didn't let our laughter dampen her resolve. Toddlers get up no matter how many times they fall down, unlike adults who often attempt something once. If it doesn't go our way, we decide never to try again. Toddlers don't do that. If they can’t get at it one way, they find another. They look at things from different angles, testing every practical strategy they can come up with. They have inbuilt determination and persistence. Just ask any parent.

Of course, I need to guide her to be safe while not diminishing her sense of exploration and wonder. It’s sadly we adults who say don’t, stop, watch out and the worst of all, don’t try! We create the budding inner critic that thrives in the wrong environment. I'd hate to be one of the people who puts such a voice into her head, probably because my own critic screams so loudly and I know how limiting its admonitions are.

Recently my granddaughter learned to grasp a pen and relishes making long inconsistent scribble marks on any piece of paper she can. Her expression is always one of great accomplishment, as if she’s written a best seller. It left me with the question as to whether I still have the capacity to treat the world with such confidence.

When I look at my scribbles – disjointed writing, paragraphs that need serious editing, a plot that’s going nowhere, characters that I don't know well enough yet – my inner critic springs into action. It’s all overwhelming. I see only errors, the bits that don’t work. When my work goes into the wider world, each rejection sits me back on my butt with disappointing force, prompting the cry, what’s the point? I'm so tempted to give up. Then I think about the sense of awe that my granddaughter displays. Look what I've done! Yes, it needs development, but it’s on the page with all its faults and all its potential. It’s a point to start. 

I hope wide-eyed wonder is infectious. From now on I'm going to revert to my inner toddler when the challenge seems too big; check all the angles, look for another way to get through. 

I'm keeping a close eye on my granddaughter. We have much to learn from one another.