Folding Rejection into Cranes

Last week, I received my first ever rejection letter from a prospective agent.  For many writers, receiving rejections is depressing, sobering, and something you keep quietly to yourself.  I decided to tell the interwebs…

Rejection is a big part of the road to traditional publishing.  Almost every major author has gone through it, even greats like George Orwell, J.K. Rowling, and Joseph Heller.  Stephen King received this comment for his book Carrie: “We are not interested in science fiction which deals with negative utopias.  They do not sell.”  William Golding (author of Lord of the Flies) was rejected by multiple publishers.  One called his book “an absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull.”

Ouch.

It just goes to show you that agents (who represent authors and act as a bridge between author and publishing company) and publishing companies don’t always get it right.  They don’t have a crystal ball.  They don’t know if werewolves or time travel or talking, soccer-playing dogs will be popular next year.  They only have their personal tastes and a general idea about what the market currently wants.

With this in mind, I began reaching out to literary agents last week.  I composed a query letter (which I edited and rewrote countless times.  More on that sometime), researched agents who are interested in my particular genre, and started sending out emails with my query letter and partial manuscript included.

To date, I have received three rejections.  Two personal, one form letter.

I am not terribly wounded, but each rejection is a little nibble at my confidence.  Each rejection weighs on my mind and shakes my confidence just a bit.  I am far from throwing in the towel, but I decided to do something about these negative replies before they make me question my ability as a writer (I’m not certain I have the same tenacity as Jack London (author of White Fang and Call of the Wild), who was rejected nearly 600 times before finding a publisher!).

I decided to take each rejection and make something beautiful and ephemeral.  I decided to make paper cranes…

…and paper dogs and helmets and whatever other origami creatures I decide to craft.  I bought a 300 pack of origami paper (and prayed I wouldn’t go through it all) and began folding.  For my first rejection: a blue crane.  For my second rejection: a pink dog head.  For my third rejection: an orange helmet (which Dobby decided to chew to bits, which was satisfying in a smug kind of way).

So, here I am, telling anyone who wants to listen about my road blocks to publishing.  My hope is that my recent lack of success will embolden you to also take your troubles and rejections and create something beautiful or perform a deliberate action in honor of your rejection.  Plant a flower; bake a cake; glue a piece of colored glass onto a jar (as a kind of mosaic of troubles); build something; paint something; take an extra yoga class; go hiking.  Take that rejection, turn it into something else, and show it that you’re not afraid of it.  You will conquer it in the end.

Trust me, it just makes you feel better.