As an author, you have to deal with a lot of rejection. Someone saying they can’t use your work in their publication comes with the territory. You send in excerpts from your novel, synopses, and short stories with the highest of hopes, but the response is usually the same—a variation of “Sorry, I’m not looking for something different. Try again.” In other words, “It’s me, not you.” But “It’s me, not you” is given as a reason for ending a relationship. Sometimes the “me, not you” is a lie, and we all know it.

The process is maddening. The worst part is that the generic message leaves no clue for authors to improve their work. Just “you didn’t make the cut.” Was it really bad? Was it seriously in consideration? What was the worst thing about it?”

The author just doesn’t know.

But sometimes, the veil is lifted and someone will give you feedback. I’ve received some biting and nasty feedback throughout my attempts to publish. Truthfully, that says more about the person providing the feedback than it does about the author. As Malcom Forbes once said, “You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat those who can do nothing for them or to them.” How true.

When I’m presented with feedback, particularly the opposite of constructive criticism, I’ve learned a few things about rejection. First, if someone uses an adjective that speaks to the entire body of work, try to ignore it. Targeted feedback with adjectives is fine, but global statements are soul-crushing.

Let me illustrate with an example. “Though a movie about religion, Raiders of the Lost Ark doesn’t showcase the complexity of spirituality.” Compared this to “Though a mindless movie about religion, Raiders of the Lost Ark doesn’t showcase the complexity of spirituality.”

Suddenly, the implication is that the creators who made the movie or the audience who watches it are “mindless.” You definitely feel the arrogance in the second sentence with one word.

“Well, you have to be open to criticism,” you may say. My response is: “Constructive criticism, absolutely.” But when you add an adjective, you are making a judgment, and—most of the time—the judgment isn’t constructive. Another example: “You’re writing could use another pass.” versus “Your pathetic writing could use another pass.” The first is constructive, the second is destructive. In the second case, you should ignore the adjective and proceed with another pass on your work. 

On a positive note, most of my stories that are rejected the first time don’t often get accepted the second, third, or millionth time I submit them. At some point, you have to admit to yourself this effort should be shelved, at least for a little while. But sometimes, the rejection of “It’s me, not you” is true. Case in point, I submitted my story “The Extra” to a few flash fiction publishers. I truly believed in this story and thought it deserved a shot at publication. But months went by and rejections piled up. As I was about to give up, everydayfiction.com accepted it and published it. And now my story is available to read. My gratitude to that site, restoring my faith in my work, is boundless. 

But for the stories or novels that keep getting rejected, grit your teeth at the response. Examine the story to see if it could use another pass or another pair of eyes. A critique partner will give you the feedback you seek. Don’t automatically dismiss it. Perhaps review the agent or publisher and pick out why you submitted to them in the first place. If you see the mismatch, avoid agents or publishers with similar wording. 

If you do receive feedback, pull out whatever makes your story stronger. Ignore any destructive criticism provided—as best as you can, it’s tough—and focus on the nuggets of information to make your work stronger. If all the criticism is negative (“Your story was awful. You should just give up.”), blocklist the agency. You don’t need to do business with condescending people.

But keep this in mind. Occasionally, it’s fine to tell yourself. “Sometimes it really is you and not me.”