Joanna Streetly: Softening the Blow Poets Talk About Rejection

Softening the Blow: Poets Talk About Rejection

Joanna Streetly

Much is written about the rejections that even famous writers experience—how if you’re not getting x number of rejections per month you’re not sending out enough work. But how does rejection alter the way you see your own work or your own sense of self-worth? Constant rejection goes against every accepted strategy for encouraging people to be the best they can be. It’s obviously subjective, yet you can’t always control how it affects you. The more rejections, the more readers the work has failed to move, so the erosion of self-belief can be cumulative.

“I’m the type of person who starts to think maybe the reviewer is right. Maybe the book sucks,” writes John McNally in his essay “The Shame, the Necessity, the Discouragement and the Freedom: Rejection, Failure and the Bigger Picture.”

“It wasn’t a very good poem anyway,” Barbara Pelman’s inner voice gloats at her when work is rejected and her belief in it evaporates. “Not edgy enough, not experimental enough, too ordinary, too nostalgic. Rejection feeds into old demons. The imposter syndrome, the see-you’re-notreally-a-poet burn.”

For Christine Lowther rejection brings dark thoughts, like, “I’m embarrassing the memory of my mother,” the late Pat Lowther. “Sometimes it gets even darker.”

“My first reaction is usually defensiveness,” says Tara K. Shepersky. “Which is healthy—it’s good to have confidence in your work—and then quickly unhealthy if you don’t catch it.”

Most poets agree that the first step on the road back to self-belief is to nurture the hurt feelings. Next, re-assess the work. Last, reach out to other writers to give and receive support.

Nurture

For Tina Biello, nurturing the hurt means going outside, gardening, walking in nature. “I take my partner’s words to heart, ‘every no is a step toward a yes.’ I must think this way otherwise I would feel forever doomed.” Lowther reminds herself of her successes. And while she seeks the reassurance of publication, “the composition is the joy. Acceptance is just icing.” For Yvonne Blomer it means doing what makes her happiest: writing. “The most free I feel is being lost in the writing, and not thinking about what is next, except the next line or image. Not worrying if anyone else will like it, but having my hands immersed in the muck of making.”

Reassess

“There are many kinds of rejections,” says Marilyn Bowering. “Some when you know you have submitted too soon; others when you have to take a hard look, dig in and improve what you can, but keep to your vision (otherwise acceptance becomes meaningless). Understanding where you are in terms of the current Zeitgeist can help.”

“I chew through the poem again,” says Blomer. “Sometimes I don’t send it out again. Some I just keep sending out.”

“Rejection is an opportunity to learn,” states Shepersky. “I have had the benefit of some thoughtful, specific rejection letters. Every time an editor has bothered to write a personal note, it’s been valuable, and I’ve taken it to heart.”

Reach Out

Create positivity by nurturing other writers and letting them nurture you. “For me, the world of poetry is so much larger than publication and acceptance,” says Barbara Pelman. “It’s about the community of poets, the conversations I have with them about things that matter to me— learning more about the power of language, how to find the best words in the best order, taking classes, offering classes, reading poems, sharing poems, editing poems. It is a way of living that is rich in itself.”