A Few Thoughts on the Rejection of Rejection
[Roxane Gay / May 3rd, 2011 / Young Bright Things ]This post may be ill-advised but I am completely burnt out on angry rejection rejections, those unsolicited rejection responses from writers who are incapable of handling rejection. By burnt out, I mean I am done. I have had it. This is pretty irrelevant in the grand scheme of things but you know how you’re outside walking on a bright sunny day, listening to music and feeling good, but there’s a tiny pebble in your shoe and that tiny pebble keeps digging in your heel and digging in your heel and eventually, that tiny pebble is digging in your heel so hard you can no longer see the sun? It’s like that.
Rejection is the most common thing a writer can experience. When it comes to writing, rejection is the rule, not the exception. If you cannot handle rejection, don’t be a writer.
I am completely burnt out because I take no pleasure in sending rejections. I really don’t. But I don’t cry about sending rejections either. I don’t feel guilt or mourn or dwell on it too much. There’s not enough time and there are too many submissions for that.  There are only twelve months in the year. We receive more than 7,000 submissions annually. We accept 20-25 pieces for each monthly issue and 60 or so pieces for the annual print issue. We have considered publishing two monthly issues so we can accept more work but don’t know if that’s something we want to do. More writers should be aware of the actual statistics involved with submissions. Our volume is moderate. There are magazines that receive far more submissions than we do and a few magazines that receive less work. It might seem like a lottery and sometimes it is. You have to send the right story and hope that story will be read by the right people at the right time. The difference between the real lottery and the lottery of submissions is that when you’re submitting your work you have some control over your luck.
We have to say no far more than we can say yes so we only select the work we fall madly in love with. Taste is subjective. What we love is subjective and shaped by both Matt and myself as well as our incredible readers who advocate enthusiastically for the work they love. We draw from all these perspectives so that we’re always offering a diverse, interesting range of content across our various platforms and so that we’re not simply publishing what two people like. This system works really well for us. We could not be prouder of the magazine we put together each month and year and we’re always excited about learning and growing and trying to be better.
There are so many factors that go into why a given submission will or won’t be accepted. You do have a better chance of having your work accepted when you read the magazine and, more importantly, when you like what we publish. Believe it or not, we can generally tell when you have a familiarity with PANK but beautiful writing is beautiful writing and when we see that kind of writing that grabs us in the gut, we don’t care about anything else.
An alarming number of these rejection rejections discuss how terrible our magazine is. Forgive us, but there’s a disconnect there. Why do you want to be published in a magazine you do not respect? What does that say about you as a writer that you’re willing to submit to a magazine whose content you find contemptible?
The great thing about literary magazines is that they are abundant. There is no shortage of magazines that cater to all manner of literary tastes. What is wrong for PANK is most assuredly going to be right for another great magazine. What is wrong for one of those other great magazines out there might be just right for us. When you consider just how many magazines are out there, rejecting rejection seems even more ridiculous.
In rejection rejections, we are often accused of accepting bad or mediocre writing from writers with a long list of credits. Let me tell you something. I’m lazy. In order to even view the cover letter in Submishmash, I have to move my mouse up to the top of the screen and then I have to click. I am lazy enough that I don’t bother to do this step until a decision has been made about the submission. I literally cannot be bothered. Only when a decision has been made do I read the cover letter because sometimes, writers send me personal notes and I don’t want to miss those and I’m also curious about what a writer has to say in their cover letter. People tell us the strangest, quirkiest, most charming things. Â We love cover letters but they have no bearing on the editorial process. Why? Because we don’t give a good goddamn where a writer has been published and we don’t care about your being a finalist in that one contest and honestly we don’t recognize 60% of the magazine names writers list so your saying you’ve been published in Fraggle Rock Review means very little. (By the way, congratulations on all of that.)
This accusation is also frustrating because we’ve developed a pretty solid reputation of being open to new writers. I especially like new writers because they have fewer bad writing habits. Nearly every issue contains work from unpublished writers. We have a particular fondness for high schoolers who submit some of the most refreshing work we read every day. We could all learn a few things from great high school writers.
There is this really pervasive and kind of dangerous myth among frustrated writers that you need to be published to get published and that you need to know the right people and so on. Please remove your tinfoil caps. I will not deny that there are magazines where credits matter. There are all kinds of reasons for this, reasons that are both reasonable and unreasonable. At the fancy magazines where they receive submissions in the tens of thousands each year, it makes sense to scan cover letters for recognizable credits. If a writer has been published, for example, in the very competitive Cream City Review, chances are that writer can string a few sentences together. Managing submissions at that volume, with such limited resources, requires triage. Readers are looking for known quantities. Every submission generally gets read but people with solid credits will get read sooner, and probably more closely. If you can come up with a better way for a magazine to manage their submissions when they’re dealing with 3,000 submissions a month, let them know. Editors, everywhere, would celebrate you.
I will not deny that at times, name recognition plays a part in a writer having work accepted. There is writing and there is publishing and in order for magazines to continue to publish they need to sell copies and in order to sell copies, magazines need to include a few recognizable names because people who buy magazines (all ten of them) are also looking for known quantities. They’re looking for something they can invest in. Even when magazines include these recognizable names they struggle to break even, let alone turn a profit. At least when a magazine breaks even, though, they can afford to print another issue. If you can come up with a better way for a magazine to remain financially solvent, get in touch. Editors, everywhere, would celebrate you.
We think about these problems. We care about these problems. We try to solve these problems as best we can. We have not given up on the idea of sustaining a financially and critically successful literary magazine that can effectively and fairly manage a high volume of submissions. In the meantime, we do what we have to do—take it or leave it.
All that said, these sorts of practices are not the norm at magazines of this size and if they are, fuck that magazine. I mean, honestly. (see: the abundance of literary magazines).
Most editors are not thinking about writers when they consider submissions. Editors are thinking about WRITING. That distinction is really, really important. At PANK, we’re too small, we’re too passionate about what we do, and we’re too busy to sit around with our thumbs up our asses playing bullshit games. You can believe that or not but as long as you obsess about conspiracy theories as to why you’re not being published and why other writers are being published instead of concentrating on your writing, on your craft, you will likely not find the acceptance you’re looking for.
This is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I rejected a pretty good story yesterday, one from a writer who shows a lot of promise. This happens quite a bit because our submission queue is regularly full of high quality work. I’ve read submissions for a few magazines over the past twelve years and I’ve never seen such consistent excellence as I see in the writing submitted to PANK. It’s humbling and makes reading submissions a daily pleasure. You guys BRING IT and we appreciate the care you put into your writing and that’s why we try to do things like send personal rejections and respond quickly. We want you to know that this is a human endeavor and that you are appreciated.
Anyway, the first reader enjoyed this pretty good story and I enjoyed this pretty good story but neither of us loved the story. There were some real problems (as there are with most stories), particularly with the writing in the beginning of the story. We sent a friendly rejection, without feedback, the kind where we say we really enjoyed the submission and while we can’t use it, we warmly encourage the writer to send more. That’s it. We’ve sent this writer three other such rejections, I believe. We mean it every time we send this rejection, we don’t just send these rejections promiscuously. However, a friendly rejection is not a rain check for acceptance. It is not a guarantee. It is simply our way of saying we enjoyed what we read and we would enjoy seeing more. The writer responded angrily with insults about the magazine as well as personal insults.  If I got riled up every time someone on the Internet insulted me, I’d have a stroke. I got angry mostly because this rejection rejection was so out of left field. I was going to post the letter here but then I decided, why bother? That’s just an asshole move.  Nothing good comes ouf it. I’ve done it in the past and I apologize. Doing that was immature. I am immature.  I’m trying to be a better editor. I will note, though that I was referred to as, “Woman,” in a really condescending way, and the phrase, “You should be impressed with my writing,” was used. I did what I normally do when I respond to these messages and said, “We wish you the best in your writing endeavors.” I also mentioned I was going to blog about this and the writer insisted I not refer to him by name.  I am always amazed by what someone is willing to say when they don’t have to take responsibility for their words.
I’m not saying editors are saints. We are just as human as writers. Sometimes editors send rude rejections. Sometimes we offer unsolicited feedback though when we do this, we generally mean well. Sometimes editors make questionable decisions. Sometimes editors play the bullshit games that make unpublished writers believe they will never have a chance. I get it. But for the most part, editors are decent people trying to build great magazines with very little money, and all volunteer staffs which means they’re doing it for love, plain and simple.
You have to have a certain amount of confidence to be a writer, to submit your writing to magazines and publishers. Writing is something that is often very personal, something  in which you, as a writer, are extremely invested. As writers we work hard in whatever free time we can scratch out for ourselves. There’s no money in it and not much glory. Writers do it for the love, plain and simple, too. As a writer, you have to believe in yourself enough to withstand rejection, to not give up when one editor or ten editors or a hundred editors tell you no. You have to find a way to make sense of the business of writing when writing can be so personal. I understand why rejection stings and why a writer’s first instinct might be to behave badly in the face of it. There is a problem, though, when you are so confident in your writing that you cannot take no for an answer.
There are all kinds of stories about famous writers who have met with rejection. These stories have taken on a mythic quality because they offer us hope. They are a reminder that even the most brilliant writers have had to accept rejection. I love these stories. They buoy me when my confidence and faith in my writing are flagging.
Duotrope tells me my writing is rejected 78% of the time. That’s pretty staggering and humbling and it is a stark reminder of the ways in which I need to improve as a writer and continue to thicken my skin. While I have a lot to learn as a writer, I also have decent credits and prospects, I’d say, and yet nearly eight times out of ten, an editor tells me no. This is one of the reasons I blog about rejection on my personal blog, to show that rejection is not something you ever move beyond as a writer. In fact, the more your career progresses, the more painful and constant the rejections become. You’re writing (hopefully) is improving but the stakes are also higher as you try to get an agent, sell books, reach for those glittering magazines with the names of cities like Paris (Review) or New York (er).
Almost every editor in this world is also a writer and as writers, we know that rejection sucks. As writers, we do not have to accept rejection gracefully, at least not privately, but it could not hurt to try. As a writer, it is frustrating to hear an editor say, “no,” when we believe in our work passionately. Sometimes, rejection makes me want to punch something. You know what I do? I punch something. In my apartment. Alone. We complain to our friends when we’re rejected. Maybe we blog about those rejections. Maybe we vow to never submit to the magazine who spurned us, ever again. We’re writers. It makes sense that we might have a flair for the dramatic. What we shouldn’t do is send angry, abusive, insulting e-mails to those editors who don’t have the good sense to accept our work. That’s just rude and if our confidence in our writing is well-placed, it’s their loss. Send those angry letters to your friends, your lovers, your pets, or your therapists. Go for a walk. Take a deep breath. Get a grip. Take another look at your writing. Send your writing back out into the world. Dealing with rejection is all in a day’s work for editors and writers alike.
Very nicely said–and it makes me want to read your magazine, so it’s all good
(here by way of Eric Marin’s twitter feed)
You should totally read the magazine. It is awesome.
We’re being punked, right?
Right?
The thing with experimental writing is that different people like different types of experimentation. What one person likes as an experiment another person may not like. A piece may not be to my taste in one way or another, but I can certainly see merits in it and certainly see that it took craft and skill to create. I used to get super-upset by rejections (though more in the “oh god I’m not a writer!” kind of way) until I sort of came to the realization that it’s largely a matter of taste and fit.
I mean, some writing is just plain bad, but it doesn’t seem to have been the case here at all.
I edited a journal for a while, and we never really got any of these rejection rejections, but I honestly think it was just luck. I sincerely doubt I was doing something “right” that is not being done by you guys at PANK.
Also, as an editor, both then and now as someone who edits a micro press, I really can only publish work that I simply adore. I can’t publish something I’m not willing to fight for, to be the strongest advocate out there for. I have rejected plenty of well-written manuscripts, manuscripts by poets who are quite successful, who I hope will submit to me again, and whose work I respect. The manuscripts I reject deserve someone who will fight for them. If I can’t be that advocate, then that writer is better off not having me publish them in my opinion.
Fit is also huge. As other commenters have said, if you don’t like what a journal or press is publishing, chances are they will not like what you are writing. Donny asked in an earlier comment that you (Roxane and PANK) post a list of what you want. By being an online journal you DO post what you want – you publish it online. I find that much moreso than a list of likes and dislikes, the content of a journal informs me as to whether my work has a prayer of being published there or not. If I compared my aceptance rate with journals I’ve carefully read versus my acceptance rate with journals I’ve only skimmed or have yet to publish an issue and I have therefor not been able to read, I am 100% positive that the first category would have a much higher success rate for me. There are plenty of journals whose “About” descriptions I love, but whose pages I simply do not fit in.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we were being punked but I also know we receive these kinds of delusion-based ramblings fairly regularly so there’s some truth in it somewhere.
This was not a case of bad writing which is the main reason why its frustrating.
Fit is such a thing. We purposefully don’t say, “This is what we want,” so we don’t limit ourselves. We want to be surprised. We want to read great writing. We want to feel connected. It’s not as complicated as it is made out to be.
Oh, I definitely believe that if anyone, writers are the ones capable of this level of absurdity. I love writers, but we are one nutty bunch.
So sad when the talented ones are among the bad-mean-crazy.
And yes, I completely agree – fit is not as complicated as we seem to think it is sometimes. You read. You feel at home. You submit (or just keep on reading!). It can be a beautiful thing.
We are being punked. I sent Donny (shoehornman@gmail.com) an email and asked for the story and he never wrote back.
I really enjoyed this. I get the weird sense of deja vu though, as if I’ve read something similar before (and elsewhere). I think a lot of writers often overlook the benefit of research. Personally, I don’t blindly send out submissions. I have wonderful friends, however, who do — but that seems odd to me. Researching various journals and mags is great, and stands to teach you a lot of things: what kind of work the magazine tends to accept, what the magazine is about, what goes into a good piece of writing. And as Roxane mentioned, the acceptance process can be somewhat subjective. But for every magazine that says no, or says your work doesn’t fit — there are other places that will likely enjoy what you do. Not always, but a lot of times. But yes, my point was basically that any writer should really research the places they might want to submit to. It just makes logical sense to familiarize yourself with a product you are submitting to be a part of.
I’m sure other editors have discussed this rejection rejection phenomenon. It’s pretty frustrating for most editors. Research is, indeed, key. And there are no guarantees but knowing your audience, having that rhetorical awareness, it always helps.
So many awesome things about this. But I’ll just relate an experience.
There’s this cool online litmag called fwriction review. I submitted a story. It was rejected. The editor wrote a really nice note though, took the time to explain why the story was rejected. I mentioned this in a but of writing on my own blog, and thanked the editor for his consideration, said that it was the sort of rejection that stung, but managed to feel good, too. Like you’re getting there.
Point is, I wasn’t a crybaby. I just simply thanked the editor for his consideration and recommendation fwriction. And then–the editor sees this entry on my blog, which I’d linked in my cover notes, and long story short, I think I’ve made a new ally in the literary world. All because I took criticism and wasn’t a dick.
Novel idea: appreciate the work the editors out there are doing, yall.
Fwriction review is a great magazine helmed by a great editor. Rejection always stings but sometimes editors do offer a spoonful of sugar to help that rejection medicine go down. Editors don’t even need to be appreciated. We’d mostly just prefer that people keep their crazy to themselves.
Damn. Typos. But you get my point.
Brad,
Your point is that you need allies in the literary world. Mine is that I don’t.
Not so much that allies are needed. More that not being a dick is better than being one for everyone involved.
I got your email, Rob, and I don’t care what you want.
But I said please!
nice try Donny’s other name!
But btw–you want me to make that point, that not being a dick and making allies in an industry or art is a good thing–well, I’ll make it.
Because it’s true.
Donny, i hope you haven’t left and stopped reading every comment or you’re not half the donny i hoped you were. send your now über-hyped story here…
http://www.flywheelmag.com/submissions/
we interrupted our Flywheel staff mini-golf launch party because we want to read this thing. and we didn’t even stop mini-golfing the other day when Bin Laden was killed! there’s always the chance we may “like not love it,” too of course. but we’re very hands-on over here and tiny enough for the special attention you need. and even if you’re rejected again, you won’t feel ignored. this is the Flywheel guarantee. seriously send it.
so well put. i could never do what you do, you all have my deepest respect. especially those readers/editors who write themselves. i write and i’ve tried editing and i just can’t do it – perhaps i’m too self-centered (as this post demonstrates) or too vain (as this post nicely demonstrates) and i’m aware of all the work you guys do (not just you at PANK, obviously) and how much smaller my writing world would be if you didn’t do what you did. i take my hat off to you (the one plastered with rejection slips – i wear it sometimes just for fun) from berlin, germany. go, PANK.
This is why I love reading this magazine.
Thanks for writing this post, R. It hurts me almost physically to see mindless hatred and ranting about such a great magazine, and for such petty reasons. I felt personally affronted but I think it’s because I DON’T fall asleep while reading PANK every month. Please know I appreciate you!
People can be so fucking ignorant sometimes. It amazes me daily. You are beyond badass, Roxane. This essay is one of the many reasons why PANK is one of my favorite magazines.
I’m not going to post here anymore (I know I keep saying that), because Roxane asked me not to. Just one point: There’s no hatred of Pank or any people going on in my head. Not at all. I think they actually try hard. I can basically see when Roxane reads stories through submishmash and she’s constantly at it. I think Pank is one of the best lit journals out there.
And that’s my major complaint. Call me asshole all you want, but think about this one single point: If a story could be better told using another medium, as a written piece it’s dead art. Do you see how these stories can all be listened to as well as read? For me that’s a problem. If you wrote a short story that works better as an audio clip, it’s dead art as it sits on paper or as a Word document. If you’re using the medium of a white background and words to tell a story, you either do something with that medium that could NEVER be done better as a movie or an audio clip, or all you did was make dead art. Why the hell am I reading it if it would be better as a film or audio clip? because I like reading? Weak answer. The only correct answer is because it CAN’T be made into a movie or a sound-bite.
I’m not trying to save literature, I’m just telling you all that most good definitions of art imply a progressive aspect. My story could NOT be recorded, could NOT be shot on film, because it requires the medium of the written word. This isn’t 1811, folks. We have movies and video games and interactive theater (digital as well as in a real theater). It’s not simply experimental to try and move forward, it’s a necessary part of any actual attempt at artistic creation. It’s either progressive in some way or dead, and all the journals look dead to me. That’s my complaint, that what touts itself as most progressive looks like a graveyard to me.
Plus, this idea that people get teased into submitting over and over again to people who want that shit for free so they can sell it, and who also demand you come begging to them before you can give them your work for absolutely nothing but bragging rights… it’s all fucking backwards.
Maybe I’m lacking in talent, but I don’t see anybody here besides me with balls big enough or a perspective unique enough to say anything that could possibly strike a thoughtful mind as even the slightest bit interesting. In fact, most people are just rewriting what Roxane first posted, but in their own words. If you don’t have balls like me, if you don’t do things with the medium that haven’t been done before, fuck off and get a real job already, cuz you ain’t it.
I did not ask you to stop commenting. I asked you to stop e-mailing me. Get it right.
My balls are so big I have to sling them over my shoulders to walk down the street and it looks like I have tits on my back.
(PS – That right there is amazing writing, you idiots! You are welcome for the lesson.)
Whatever your wishes are, Roxane. I don’t harass people, at least not once they tell me to stop. I wasn’t trying to put words in your moth. You said you looked forward to never hearing from me again, so I considered that all inclusive.
And fake Donny, I’m an honest guy so let me say that I was born with small balls and a big dick. Everything can’t be big down there, ya know?
I’m not fake Donny. You are fake Donny. What’s your real name?
damn, i should have written something about my dick or my balls, two things i actually know more about than about writing, when you come to think of it but i don’t like to shove them into anyone’s face, so to speak. but, alas, i had not read the comments earlier. now i have and it was fun, kind of, to begin my day that way.
it sounds as if donny wants to be published desperately but also seen for who he is. well, don’t we all. the first rule of good communication: if you want to be seen (or heard or read), make sure the other person knows you see/hear/read them.
he can post his story at kaffe in katmandu which is about as non-1811 as possible and far removed from any magazine out there – it’s just a place. all he has to do is contact the maitre d’ nicely.
we’ve actually been thinking about a mini-golf launch party. until now i thought this might be a cool idea, it being all 70s and 80s like a tarantino script. our other idea was to invite a bunch of russian robber barons and let them treat us to caviar and vodka – an idea that’s even older than 1970 and older than 1811, too.
Mark,
Honestly, I can’t understand what you just wrote. I was just coming to drop a related link back here, and I tried to read what you wrote like three times. It’s not the words that get in my way, it’s this deafening hum that fills my head whenever I start rolling through your sentences. Kind of like an old timey roller-coaster just gettin ‘a goin. Sorry, but I just can’t understand you. You have my apologies, Sir.
Anyway:
REJECTED STORY HOLDS PRESS CONFERENCE
and there’s the link
http://www.flywheelmag.com/119/rejected-story-holds-press-conference/#comment-306
funniest thing I’ve read in ages.
[...] I promise, I do solemnly and sincerely swear, that I shall not do this.  Or [...]
With regard to the original article: it seems that when rejection is the rule rather than the exception for writers, and that this is something that they have to accept as part of the process, the same rule of thumb applies for editors. After all, these are rejection letters that they are receiving, too: writers rejecting magazine. Unlike the responses of most editors, they are seldom polite, well-mannered, kind or sensitive, very often egomaniacal, boorish and written under the cloak of night, but, isn’t the role of the shunned artist? Were that it weren’t! But sometimes it is.
All you’ve said is sensible. I know about the diversity of taste from my experience as a consulting editor for a literary journal produced in the English Department of the university where I teach. However, some editors send rejection messages that produce a logical reaction of WTF? Years ago, I submitted numerous stories to a certain on-line mag that had a team of fiction editors, a woman & a man. They sent me the friendliest rejections I have ever seen, sometimes including “XXOO.” They claimed to love reading my stories. They wanted to read more. In one case, they said they thought they would accept my latest if I cut about 1,000 words from it. I did that by eliminating most of the local colour (painful exercise). I resubmitted. They loved the leaner story but no, they didn’t accept it. Another editor rejected a story of mine on grounds that she disagreed with my premise that all women are saints, all men are dogs. I was stunned by her interpretation. (I had posted this story to an on-line writers’ group, and no one else there saw what the editor saw.) I responded by telling her that was not my premise, though if she couldn’t use the story, fair enough. She wrote back to say she had no time to write detailed critiques.
Writers & editors need a common language.
Oh my word. It kills me to think that this happens in general, and to a magazine like PANK in particular. PANK is one of my favorite online mags both to read and to submit to (and get rejected by), in no small part because Roxane sends the best rejections I’ve ever gotten.
When I first started sending out my work, I was one of those douchecanoes who blindly Duotrope-bombs places without reading their archives (please forgive me my folly!), and my first really great rejection was from PANK, letting me know the pacing of the story was a bit slow. I ended up reworking it and selling it elsewhere a few months later, thanks to that thoughtful comment. Now, every once in a while I write something with PANK in mind, and am occasionally blessed with another of those rocketsauce personalized rejections. I look forward to them.
Hate to think of entitled writer dudes wearing down editors who run their magazines with the best of intentions. Love this blog post. Want everyone to read it.
[...] read this post at the Pank Blog by Roxane Gay (one N). I think a read through the comments is not a bad idea. This part struck home with me as a [...]
Thank you so much for writing this. I giggled when I read your lottery analogy because that’s exactly how I look at it. There are so many great journals and for the mere investment of 5 or 10 minutes I can enter and possibly be published and freely benefit from the resources of that journal. And unlike the actual lottery, I actually have a chance of winning it. I’ve also reminded many people that statistically-speaking of course rejection is the norm and acceptances are basically miracles: a writer’s vision actually matching with an editor’s vision. As far as I’m concerned anyone who doesn’t realize this is either a rookie or writing for the wrong reason (ego).
I guess since I have been fortunate enough to have work in PANK I could be seen as an ass-kissing, insider, cocksucker. Fair enough, but I will say this: I respect PANK so much that I ONLY ever send my very best work (in fact, this led me to the insight that I should never publish any of my B-game poems). I hear more and more writers complaining about editors/publishers who “aren’t personal”. I don’t get it. To me, that would be like getting interviewed for a job and then complaining the interviewer wasn’t personal. I’m not in the small press to get ego handjobs or free workshops from editors. If they want to do that stuff that’s fine but they sure don’t owe it to me. These people already work so hard for me and my peers, what kind of self-important asshole would I be to think they owe me even more than that? Ultimately, I just want a yes or a no. If the answer is no, I have two choices: 1. send the piece somewhere else or 2. try harder.
I love PANK and will always send poetry to PANK and will secretly wish bad things upon those who go out of their way to bother any PANK editors.
LAST BIT OF UNSOLICITED ADVICE: If you send out a piece that you feel is 100%, not out of ego but because you have really spent time crafting it to perfectly meet your vision, if it isn’t 95% or 99% of even 99.9%, but a piece that you can honestly say you have given your ALL with, I doubt you’ll ever mourn or even care about any number of rejections. This is the power of believing in yourself. If you send out a piece needing the validation of an editor to tell you it’s good (if you need this kind of thing there’s a pretty good chance no words will be right, such is the nature of need)…than you should be blaming yourself because you sent it out without finishing your job. 100%, 100%, 100%; the rest is out of your control and not nearly as important anyway. The spiritual high of perfectly pleasing myself will always be more important to me than the publishing part.
Thanks again.
Eh, I knew mine was crap when I sent it in, but you sent me a very kind response and encouraged me to try again. Then I felt bad that someone actually had to take the time to read my less-than-best effort and send me a nice note. I really hate you for that. >8-]
Rejection is all in the delivery, I guess.
PANK rules. I’ve been rejected here many times. It’s an awesome publication that receives a bunch more awesome submissions. There is no shame in not having your work accepted here. I haven’t had mine accepted here. You know what I do? I keep writing. I try to get better. Other people should try that instead of bitching. When a writer complains to an editor, they should realize that the same time they are using complaining could be used to IMPROVE AT THEIR CRAFT.
Love the fire. Keep it up!
-Maxwell
I don’t think it’s true that almost every writer in the world is an editor. I’m not sure if that’s a problem, a plus, or what, but I certainly don’t think it’s a veritable fact. Regardless, I can obviously relate to this post, though I find those knee-jerk spasms of rage to be best taken with a hearty dose of laughter. As you said, you are thinking about writing, and thus it’s the writer who should spend time thinking about the rejection, not you, and their willingness to attempt to invert that only illustrates another area where they require growth.
As an editor, and as is par for the course for me, I must suggest that you correct the typo “You’re” in the paragraph that begins here: You’re writing (hopefully) is improving but the stakes are also higher as you try to get an agent, sell books, reach for those glittering magazines with the names of cities like Paris (Review) or New York (er).
At dispatch, we’ve taken a stance that the types of responses you’re referring to will be published as “Letters to the Editor” unless expressly requested otherwise. In this way, both parties win: we feel vindicated at the same time as we publish that ever-so-deserving (perhaps a bit sniveling) writer. See 3.2 for a reference.
i have been coming back to this post over the past few days, and i have found the comments and post itself very insightful, entertaining, and relevant in the light of some recent experiences.
i was wondering- has anyone here (besides me) ever experienced an unacceptance? as in, a magazine accepts a piece and then unaccepts it a few months down the line. this has happened to me, and it’s raised a lot of personal questions about what (or whether or not) the publisher “owes” me anything when they accept a piece. what do you– as a publisher–feel you owe your accepted writers? is it ever acceptable to reject an acceptance?
crickets
[...] DT (as Donny): Pank’s reading process is a scam. They reject submissions as fast as possible to remain on Duotrope’s list of swiftly responding journals. That in itself isn’t an evil maneuver, but then Roxane goes a step further by trying to bolster future submission rates by writing phony ‘personal’ rejection letters. She urges people to resubmit as soon as possible, because just like she’s overly concerned with placing Pank on the list of swift responders, she also wants to decrease acceptance rates, thus giving the impression that Pank is a competitive market, and possibly even appearing on Duotrope’s other list of the most challenging of all journals. She also wants to sell t-shirts. Word Riot and Neon do the exact same thing. They reject without reading and then urge rejects to do two things: report response times to Duotrope’s and immediately resubmit. She’s a scammer, and I let her know that I know it, and she reacted by writing a blog about me. Nothing was fake but her responses to earlier pieces I submitted. She teased me into submitting a third piece, telling me how impressed she was with my writing (as if it’s her personal approval I sought), and when she wrote me my third nice ‘personal’ rejection, I wrote back to say, “The jig is up, Woman.” The rest is still in her lame, petty, whiney blog for all to see. [link here?] [...]
[...] Thoughts on the Rejection of Rejections [...]
[...] I write in response to your interview at AbjectiBlog, which was in part a response to Roxane Gay’s letter to writers at PANK, which was in part a response to an angry note you wrote her after she rejected one of your [...]
entire fight with Roxane can be seen by clicking my name. It’s a one-sided, brutal beating. She comes out swinging and kicks my ass for 12 rounds and here we are, with me getting slapped and spat on by the crowd when I really ought to be on a stretcher being carried to the emergency room.
Oh, woe is me…
Wow. I’m amazed at the utter vileness of this comment thread. Dear old internet, you never fail to surprise me with your moments of both grace and lunacy.
I’m a writer. I’m a publisher. I’ve been several different kinds of editor.
Rejection sucks, but it’s part of the writer’s job. Alas, my poor wounded ego.
As an editor, I quickly learned to just restrict my rejections to “It’s interesting, but it’s not what we’re looking for right now.” Anything else — anything, no matter how friendly or useful — is apt to turn round and bite you in the arse. Hard.
Working through submissions is a hard job. I have the utmost sympathy. People, taken as a general mass, are utterly mad. I’ve worked in high-street shops. I know what folk are like. When it’s something this personal, it gets worse.
No publisher — books, magazines, comics, movies, whatever — is cavalier about new content. They can’t be. It’s their livelihood. There is no conspiracy. Take ownership of your fate, folks; writing successfully is a blend of luck, talent, skill and hard work. No-one is really sure how that divides up, but even if you’re a new Shakespeare, luck is still a major part. The knocks are not personal.
Please believe it, and give the poor, harried submissions eds a break.
Im a writers of fiction, prose and features. Editors often ask me to change things. sometimes they reject my work and say do it again. And Ive never won any kind of creative writing prize. And now Im editing a proper magazine for myself and I see how hard it is to tell a writer theyve got it wrong without damaging their ego. And the writers who take it on the chin, and change, and resubmit, are the ones I keep going back to.
Don’t you guys think there are people in the world more deserving of your defense than editors of online literary journals? People get decapitated daily. So a few editors get called pompous. What kind of twisted person feels the need to speak up for people who read submissions? The poor, harried editors? Are you people fucking serious?
I think it’s disgusting how you come in here and use any opportunity to suck some ass and better your chances at achieving what you consider a lucky break.
Dude up there actually thinks Shakespeare needed luck to be successful as a writer. I guess that’s what you tell yourself when you’re sure you’re the next Shakespeare but nobody ever gives you dime number one for the terribly boring shit you write.
Yeah, thanks for the advice, it was much needed, people. As if 100 people hadn’t already written “rejection is part of writing.”
Am I the only one who sees how being the type of person willing, even eager, to simply rewrite the sentiments of another, even of a pool, in your own words is the most positive proof possible that the brain in question is lacking in originality? I will bet my balls right now, not one of you people who reverberated the exact same thought in this thread will EVER write or say ANYTHING that hasn’t been said or written thousands of times before you ‘ingeniously’ thought of it.
What seriously needs to stop is all the repetition amongst you boring ass dolts.
and how many of you jackasses start with, “As a writer, publisher, editor…..”
You’re a jackass if you wrote anything like that. This is a string in a blog column, and you’re trying to qualify your statement with some sort of partial resume. You’re so full of yourselves that you imagine us buying right into however you’ve chosen to announce yourself. Nobody would do that. Nobody is in any way touched by these ridiculous lists of faces you wear except the person who lives for the moment he or she gets to writer, “As a writer, publisher, editor…..” And if you feel the need to write that in here, you must not get a chance to write it anywhere else.
I am seriously beginning to feel as though I’m keeping company with true morons here. I can’t see any of you, but I’m starting to get a picture here and it gives me the creeps.
Thumbs up, ‘woman’!! (And I make reference to ‘woman’ in the most affectionately sarcastic way possible.)
i’ve been rejected from pank on a couple of occasions. as a matter of fact, i’ve never been accepted. i’ve never once thought to send a nasty letter to any of the magazines who’ve rejected me. it is hard and it sometimes makes you wonder if you’re going about the work in the right way. should i let the rejection change my writing and improve myself or should i trust my instincts and seek out that audience which will validate me? i love pank. i will continue to read pank. even if i submit one hundred stories that i know will change the world and they all are thoroughly and without a personal response rejected.
Good day, I necessary connection the administrator of this area! Waiting quest of an answer.
Almost all of the things you say is astonishingly precise and it makes me wonder why I had not looked at this in this light previously. Your piece really did turn the light on for me as far as this particular issue goes. But there is 1 issue I am not necessarily too cozy with so whilst I make an effort to reconcile that with the actual central idea of the position, permit me see just what all the rest of the visitors have to say.Well done.
Great post, Roxane. Same over at Black Heart: we don’t care who you are, or where you’ve been published (if at all), but if you don’t bring your A-game, we don’t want it on our site. It’s exactly the literary lottery, and all you have to do to improve your chances is write better. Who can really ask for anything more than that?
Also, like you said, we are trying not to stroke out by replying to haters. So we shut off comments on our site, and we just hit “delete” when we get rejection rejections. Life is so much simpler now. Haters gonna hate, editors gonna hit delete. And add you to their blacklist so they never have to see your name in their inbox again.
this is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
i’ve never got any retaliations being an editor at Metazen who often rejects, but then we use Submittable and so it might be harder for somehow to sling their angst.
Helpful info. Lucky me I discovered your website by chance, and I am stunned why this twist of fate didn’t came about earlier! I bookmarked it.