My goal for this year is to receive as many as rejections as possible. I can be a little—okay, a lot—perfectionistic about where and when I send out submissions, so the intention of this goal was to push me to accomplish the part of publishing that I can control, submitting, and let go of the part I can’t control, selling. Unfortunately, this hasn’t worked out so well, as it seems most places either aren’t even reading the work or are only replying if interested, and are thus denying me of the small satisfaction of the rejection letter as proof I did SOMETHING. So, I think I will have to revise my goal and tweak my process so that I can celebrate, and tangibly see, every submission, whether I receive an answer or not. How do you do that without wasting paper? I’d love to hear your ideas!
There’s some good news, though (well, kinda)! Yesterday I received a rejection letter for a very beginning-level easy reader I’d sent to Scholastic’s Cartwheel imprint. I suspected it was probably not perfectly right for them, but I love them so much I just had to try (fighting that perfection thing again). Well, it was a rejection, but it was personalized, friendly, and discussed my particular manuscript and why they decided to pass. In fact, I have to agree with their assessment, although I still believe there’s a place for this manuscript with a different list. So, yes, it’s a little disappointing, but I’ll still send out a big virtual thank you to Scholastic/Cartwheel. I finally have something for the rejection file, and can at least revel in the success of failing!
‘Success is going from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.’ —Winston Churchill