Artists Need to Learn to Take “No” For an Answer
Yes, even if they think their work is the best, purest form of art.
Yes, even if they think their work is the best, purest form of art.
“We took a look and unfortunately it’s not a good fit for <redacted>.”
This was the rejection message I got in May 2020 when I submitted my article to a publication I’d been targeting for months.
I’d read their submission guidelines, checked and double-checked my pitch, and wrote the draft to the best of my abilities. I’d spent 7–8 days on the article, adding in research, taking quotes from experts, and polishing every word, every line, until I was sure I’d put in my best effort.
After all this, getting a generic rejection message was heartbreaking.
Maybe my writing isn’t good enough for them, I thought to myself. Maybe I’m not talented enough to write commissioned articles. Maybe all I’ll ever do is trade my time for $2 articles on online platforms.
That’s how my self-talk went, and this is what prevented me from getting another commissioned article for almost four months after the first rejection.
What changed during these four months? Did I immediately become a better writer, cash in on impeccable storytelling skills, and turn myself into a blogging maverick?
Nothing of the sort.
All I did was put my head down and work.
- I read through every commissioned piece the publication published in the past six months.
- I brainstormed ideas from my life that I could turn into commissioned articles.
- I read books and learned how to write for a global audience. As a non-ESL writer, this was the hardest challenge. Grammarly helped, as did On Writing Well by William Zinsser.
The result?
Four months later, I sent a proposal to the same publication. And it got accepted for a $500 commission.
I did a happy dance around the room and called all my friends. I was working as a civil engineer back then. My monthly salary after working twelve-hour days was barely $650. To think that I could earn $500 from an article that I spent about 5 days writing was nothing short of a miracle.
It was more than a testament to my writing powers. It was proof that if I worked hard enough, I could turn my destiny around. I could be a full-time writer when all I did was read, write, and the money would keep flowing.
That acceptance was like a ray of hope that propelled me to worked harder, plan smarter, and carve out a timeline for when I could eventually quit my job to pursue my passion.
And it only happened because I didn’t let the initial rejection define me. I kept working harder, understood the rules of the game, and didn’t give up.
Turns out, that was all I needed.