This painting by Edgar Degas, L'Absinthe, resonates with me. After receiving a rejection note from an editor, 'Thanks but no thanks', how often do we put on our fancy hats, go out for a drink, and sit, slump shouldered, as we ponder our perceived failure?
I had my first rejection note from the wonderful publisher, writer, and teacher Phoebe Meikle (1910 - 1998) who was the editorial director at the time for publisher Longman Paul (1969 - 1990s). I was probably 13 years old and had written what I thought was a fabulous story of adventure on the high seas in a sailboat on the Hauraki Gulf (I'll say no more about that ...).
Back then, manuscripts were printed and posted, there was none of this email or internet stuff, so I posted off this unruly pile of pages I'd bashed out on Mom's typewriter (and she hated me using her very expensive manual machine because I ploughed through ribbons and she said I had a 'too heavy touch'), single spaced, bad spelling, thinking in my youthful arrogance that the story was so good, they'd love it, fix it up - that's why they had editors, right?
I waited a long time ... and then one day the manuscript came back in the post and with it was a letter from Ms Meikle. She was kind, declining my manuscript, but giving my some valuable tips, like next time I should double space my manuscripts, leave wider margins, and tidy up my puncuation as this makes it much easier for overworked editors. At the end of the note, she said something like, 'Keep writing, I think you should ...' .
Once I'd overcome my humiliation at being rejected, I read her letter several times more, and realised she had been exceptionally kind to this young writer who had sent in a load of mess. She was supportive and thoughtful. I remember that letter to this day and am grateful to her.
There have been lots of rejections since, mostly articles for magazines and newspapers, and two for my first book Welcome to the Amazon Club until it was accepted by Longacre Press in Dunedin.
The thing is: we have to be resilient, we have to keep going. Rejection is not failure. It doesn't mean your work isn't good. Maybe it just wasn't the right fit for that publisher, or yes, maybe, in hindsight, we could've improved that piece a little before submitting ...
So anyway, after getting a rejection note, allow yourself a bit of self indulgent wallowing in a pool of absinthe, but then sit up, take off the fancy hat, put on the working cap, and back to writing you go.
These days, editors seldom have time, or inclination, to write helpful rejection notes, but if they do, grab onto them, make the most of their suggestions, because such tips can help you next time - and there will be a next time.
Of course there will. You're a writer.