So you want to be a writer? Then you better get a thick hide.

Source: Wikimedia Commons

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a writer.

And for as long as I can remember I've had issues with rejection.

We all have them, really. But my issue is more pronounced since I was abandoned at birth, and for other reasons I'd rather not share, I feel rejection to the core.

Of all the occupations to long for, I managed to pick the one where rejection is more the norm than the exception. Especially when starting out.

If you want to be a writer, you're going to have to grow a thick hide. You're going to want to be a writer more than you hate the feeling of rejection.

I started submitting stories back in the 1970s (you know, when the ice was just beginning to thaw from the ice age). I received more rejection letters than acceptances. In fact, I'm not sure I received any acceptance letters from any magazines of major importance. But I continued to write. I enrolled in writing courses. I kept practicing the craft. The passion was still there. The rejections hurt, but my unction to write was stronger than that hurt.

I truly believe that it's not the most talented that get published but those that are the most persistent. It's the ones who refuse to give up and who are open to criticism and willing to learn how to master

their craft that make it.

Get yourself in a critique group that will filet you, and you'll learn to write well. It will do you no good to surround yourself with people who pat you on the back. Iron sharpens iron. Pens sharpen pens. Create an environment for yourself that stretches you and demands more from you.

Recently I was asked by a major magazine to do an article. I had longed to be published in such a magazine during the 1990s but my submissions were consistently rejected.

Now the magazine has come to me, not me to them.

I do not boast in myself. I only share this to say that it has nothing to do with my brilliance, but it does have to do with my work ethic and my willingness to learn all I can and to work like a dog. When I'm not doing something else, I'm writing. I'm not kidding. When I'm not writing, I'm usually researching or learning about writing. (I'm also a full-time college student, pastor's wife, Mama, caregiver of a mother-in-law with Alzheimer's...) But when I'm not doing those other things in my "other life," I'm working on my craft. I sacrifice personal free time to do so. (Naturally, in balance with keeping God my God and not putting the writing before Him.)

My point is this: Work Hard. Learn to take it on the chin. Grow a thick hide.

And never, never quit.

This post is cross-posted from Karla's Blog.  

 

Karla Akins is the award-winning author of The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Books due out August 9, 2013. Her ebook, Jacques Cartier went #1 in its category on Amazon and one of her columns was featured on the CNN homepage.

 

 

You Can't Do His Part--He Won't Do Yours

My very first publisher’s rejection was a red-letter day on the calendar of my life. I was ecstatic to learn someone had actually read my work. It didn’t matter that the response was short and negative. Your work does not fit our current needs at this time, it said, but I had a publisher’s letterhead with my name on it, and I was so grateful I taped it to my office wall.

As you might guess, my enthusiasm for rejection letters has dwindled considerably. Currently, I’m more like Pavlov’s dog, where the sight of a publisher’s envelope in my mailbox triggers my chest muscles to tighten and my stomach to clench even before I open it. Yet, rejection letters are an important part of the publishing process, and like them or not, we must deal with them.

The biblical Hezekiah offers an alternate example of dealing with unwanted mail. Hezekiah was already having a bad day when he received the letter from the King of Assyria (Isaiah 37), which was more like hate mail. Yet, Hezekiah didn’t take the letter personally. Instead, he spread the letter on the altar before the Lord as if it was God’s mail and not his own. In response, God sent His angel to battle Hezekiah’s enemies and Hezekiah came out nicely in the end.

I don’t think it is unreasonable for the writer to take Hezekiah’s example and apply the same principle to rejection letters. If God has called you to a writing ministry and you've done your absolute best on the submission, then it’s fair to lay that rejection letter out before God and say "God, this isn't about me. This is a rejection of the ministry you have given me, and I leave the future of this work in your hands."

Remember, if it is truly a ministry of the Lord, then you are not responsible for the results. The writer’s responsibility is to do his or her best work—God will take care of the results. You cannot do His part, and He will not do yours.

KennyNoble@hotmail.com