things i wish i knew before writing poetry pt iv: rejection is good, actually

I know, I know.
You’ve heard it before.
I have too.

We all have our dream publications, and I have had the pleasure of being rejected from each of mine many, many times.

I say pleasure not because I enjoy it or because I’m holy-humbled into a higher state of being—

I say this because, whether I like it or not, it’s made me a better writer.

Rejection made me be honest in two ways: with myself and with my writing.

And, hey, that’s old, tired advice too! But stay with me here.

Let’s break it down.

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First of all, we know that so much of this is a subjective dice roll, so keep that in mind. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right—but sometimes it’s a guidance.

After the initial gut reaction of booooooo, I try to pay attention to my thoughts instead of my feelings. Because they usually tell me one of two things:

Yes, I get it.

I knew this needed work.

or

Nah, their loss.

This shit is good and I know it.

This information then guides my next steps and helps me grow as a writer.

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The Good

For example, I had a set of poems I absolutely loved and just knew were good. I was so sure they would be immediately accepted by a dream litmag.

They were not.

But since you should never keep all your eggs in one Submittable basket, I had submitted these pieces—even more brazenly—to contests as well.

Within weeks of each other, two of these poems won two separate contests!

And I am so glad I did not give up on them or try to change them.

Throughout the rejections, I knew in my gut I wanted them as they were. And it paid off.

Then there are the others...

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The “Needs Work”

I’m talking the poems you might kinda like in the moment., but in your heart of hearts you know that maybe they weren’t finished cooking quite yet.

But this isn’t always super obvious to me right away.

I often find myself thinking No, it’s still good, it just hasn’t found its home...but then in the back of my mind I catch myself also thinking Eh, I don’t feel like revising this. I have others I’m more excited about.

And this tells me what I need to know.

For me, this means I put them on hiatus until a later time—something to revisit weeks, months, maybe years later.

What you do with yours is up to you but...

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I think the hardest part is recognizing this in yourself. It takes practice.

And I wish I had better advice on how to do this, but it really was a lesson learned in time.

As you write more and submit more, you begin to notice a pattern of what is working and what isn’t in your writing.

The trick is just really listening to yourself, to that small voice in the back of your head.

At its core, my goal is to chase the poems I am most passionate about, regardless of what I feel like I “should” be working on.

But sometimes I also find that my most successful poems were some of the “easier” ones to write and that is because I was writing honestly, which is another thing rejection has helped me with...

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honesty with your writing

Each time I get a rejection, I ask myself Why? What am I doing that isn’t working?

This helps take me outside of the poem and puts me in the shoes of the reader.

(Granted, you don’t need to be rejected in order to do this, but I find my brain is simply more willing to listen this way.)

A rejection from a specific litmag also gives me a tighter focus—sometimes I will go reread their older publications and compare their strongest qualities to mine. I like to do this before and after submitting! (SUPPORT THE LITMAGS YOU SUBMIT TO!)

This also helps me step back and reflect on whether or not my poetry sounds like...my poetry.

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I do this by asking if my poetry is telling the truth.

By this, I don’t mean my poems are lies (if there’s even such a thing). What I mean is being true to who I am and how I write.

I explore this by asking questions like:

• Who am I writing for?

• What am I trying to accomplish with this poem and how? Does it work?

• Is this written how I would read it?

• What perspectives do I have to offer?

• Am I writing to sound poetic or am I writing to communicate?

This set of questions is going to look different for every writer. YOU know your writing goals better than anyone else.

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I could write a whole post on writing honestly but, quite frankly, I am still learning it myself.

Personally, I have found sometimes I am trying too hard.

When I compare my poetry to my favorite poetry, I’ve found that the other poems read much more raw than mine do.

Sometimes you need the knife in your heart to dig deeper into it.

I also noticed that some of my most successful poems are focused less on “sounding poetic” and are much more natural.

This, of course, does not mean there isn’t craft to them—they just make it look easy.

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Point is, by being honest with how you write, you can find answers in the patterns—both the rejections and the acceptances.

Again, all of this is something you can do without being rejected, but it gives me an actionable quest when I receive one and this helps me keep things moving in the publication realm.

I find that having a “Plan B” helps me shake off the sting and maintain my motivation rather than sulking.

Nothing about writing is easy and rejection doesn’t help...unless you find a way to let it fuel you on your never-ending poetic journey.

Good luck out there and keep submitting!