A non-musical pressed blog but so relevant to us too. A very well written piece about rejection and all that entails. Jenny’s debut novel THE SECRET SON received rave reviews in Australia…a little birdie tells me she quite like Wagner after seeing the Opera Australia, Ring. Might she be tempted to write an opera libretto (See we got back to music…)
Jenny Ackland is a writer and teacher who lives in Melbourne. Her first novel THE SECRET SON was published by Allen & Unwin in September 2015, and her second novel LITTLE GODS is forthcoming in 2017. LITTLE GODS has a gothic Mallee 1980s setting and is about resilience and revenge.
I’m writing this mainly I guess for any writers who might be reading. Rejections (note the plural) are part of the game. And it is a game, not a fun game or one of manipulation, but of patience, perseverance, and professionalism. Another thing: it’s a long game.
I wrote about rejection here, for author Lee Kofman, and how me submitting a terribly-written travel article back in 1990 (and getting rightly rejected – and in retrospect it was a LOVELY ‘No’ letter, I have the feeling it came from Jonathan Green) meant that I didn’t submit anything for years. I didn’t stop writing, I’m not that precious or thin-skinned, but If I’d known then what I know now, a slow-dawning awareness that started building once I started writing seriously with a view to publication from 2008 onwards, I would have seen that not only was that piece a draft, wholly unworked and not worthy of appearance outside of my diary pages, rejection does not mean you are shit.
Now, as I am sitting with a completed second novel manuscript, the first draft of a third ready for next-stage development, and fourth in its early stages, I am so glad that not only was that pathetic travel piece denied its place in the canon lol, but also that the first few submissions I made to literary journals were nixed as well. I know now that my novels need a long, long time in the oven, with the preparation of them like one of those crazy recipes that have so many ingredients you almost decide not to cook the bloody thing, but then you think, well, give it a whirl, it’s the weekend, I’ve got the whole day, and you make the hugest mess of the kitchen, use every pot and pan, and you kind of enjoy it but kind of think ‘why am I even doing this?’ And it took me a while to realise that if I can manage my impatience by thinking ‘the thing will improve, take your time, this is nowhere near finished’ and resist rushing it to readers, an agent, the publisher, then the pressure comes off a bit.
Source: On rejections | Seraglio