On Being Rejected
I wish I could tell you that I never received a rejection letter—that my applications to graduate school and my submissions to short fiction markets were so perfect and on point that I got all acceptances and I’ve sold every story.
When I applied to Concordia University in Seward, Nebraska for my undergraduate degree, I didn’t apply anywhere else. I knew I was being called to that campus, that I belonged there. Mom and I walked down the sidewalk with a group of other prospective high school seniors when we passed two students talking in the grass—they had stepped off the sidewalk to let our group pass. The young woman had an open Bible in her hand and said to the young man, “I read something last night that I want to show you.” That open honesty and comfort was all I needed to know CUNE was where I belonged. I turned to Mom and said, “This is it. I’m not applying anywhere else.”
That was one of those rare moments in my life when I knew my calling. My time at CUNE blessed me with a solid education, lasting friendships, and some fantastic mentors.
I didn’t have one of those clarifying moments when I applied to graduate schools. I approached those applications with a shotgun—send out as many as possible and hope for the best. I applied to programs for Literary Fiction—not knowing there was a difference between Literary and Genre Fiction. That spring semester, I received rejection after rejection. When the last one came in my campus mailbox, I couldn’t wait to open it until I got to my dorm room. I opened it on my walk back to the dorm and felt so defeated.
The string of rejections didn’t fit my plan. Didn’t fit my five-year plan.
A year later, I got into the Genre Fiction program at Western State Colorado University. This program better fit my goals as a writer—much better than the other schools I applied to. I was meant to wait for this opportunity.
Now I’m sending out a short story to different magazines in the short fiction market, and I keep getting rejections. They’re not fun—they suck the hope right out of you. My latest rejection came this week (with personalized comments, which is a step in the right direction because it means that it was not a form rejection).
This year I’ll be more diligent about submitting stories to different markets. Half the battle is finding the right market for the story.
I know that it will not be the last rejection letter I get. I’m planning to keep them all. One day I’ll be able to look back and know that I didn’t let the opinions of others keep me from being successful. I was meant to wait for something better. All of these rejections are building on something more than I could imagine for my 5-year plan.
Here’s to many more submissions. And many more rejections—but hopefully some acceptance letters too.