Category Archives: Rejection

Crit Groups Suck I mean Rock

It was my turn. I passed out my thirty pages to the group to take home and love. I knew they would. They’d come back the next week and beg for more. The prose. The story. The insight. They’d share with their friends. The leader of the crit group (a group I paid $200 a month to be a part of) had been published—four times. She’d probably kick my submission over to her agent. I’d have publishers beating down my door, demanding I quit my day job and finish the book.

The next week I waited nervously as we went through the opening formalities. Then they pulled out their redlined thirty pages and looked at me. Not with eyes of amazement or envy, but…pity? Confusion?

“Well,” said the four-time published author, “where do I start?”

I learned a lot in the next twenty minutes. It was like prancing around the high school cafeteria, butt naked.

They wanted to know what happened to the peanuts. See, my character went on a road trip with his dad. He stopped in the gas station and bought peanuts. I never mentioned them again. They wanted to know what happened. The group leader suggested if I put it on the table, that I use it.

I sucked at POV. I hadn’t written a story but wrote about the scenes I would have watched on television, shifting camera angles back and forth. Good for television, bad for storytelling. This was the first time I learned about the concept known as Point of View.

“But beautiful imagery in the fire scene.” That coming from the four-time published author. I didn’t know what imagery was. But I had written something that I had experienced, building a campfire.

After the experience, my pride more than bruised, more like destroyed, and surprisingly with no agent deals, I about gave up writing.

Fast forward 10 years. Tonight, I just got off the phone with a phenomenal crit group. We submit1000 words each week and critique them. We probably overanalyze things, discuss word variations, plot structure, character development. The benefit of this group, hasn’t been the critiques, the multiple eyes and perceptions that catch inconsistencies or typos (like mine tonight where I wrote “her waste” instead of “her waist”).

No the greatest gift of this crit group has not been so apparent. In reading other writings as a fellow critiquer, I have to ask myself a number of questions: Why does this work or not work? Why did I misread this? What do they mean here? Why did they take it that direction? Why did they use that word? How might I have said that? Why do I love this character? Why do I enjoy this character? What made that piece great? And on and on and on.

Then, while asking the questions, developing a response that is constructive and then sharing that response with the author has helped me better understand my own writing weaknesses.

Robert Heinlein said, “When one teaches, two learn.” This my friends, is why you need a crit group. Because when all six of us teach, all six of us learn and we are getting better, I am getting better.

Here are some things crit groups have taught me.

  1. How you mention something in a story can add great significance to that something…like peanuts.
  2. If you put something on the table, use it.
  3. Good writers are not born. Everyone sucks as some stage in their writing career. If you want to be a good writer, persistence will help.
  4. DON’T PAY FOR CRIT GROUPS – even if they are a four-time published author.
  5. If you don’t like your crit group, find another. There are plenty. Maybe join two.
  6. If you’re the smartest guy in your crit group, maybe join a second (don’t necessarily quit your first because Robert Heinlein had a good point.
  7. Make the time to submit, attend, and offer feedback in your crit groups.
  8. Be consistent.
  9. Writing prompts, given by someone in the crit group is a waste of time. I’ve got plenty of ideas and too little time.
  10. Join a group that writes the same genre as you. It’s hard to get feedback on legal thrillers if everyone else is a fantasy guy.
  11. Be appreciative. They’re helping you and maybe you’re helping them.
  12. Take all feedback. If it helps, great. If not, throw it away quietly.

An End to New Beginnings…

I’ve really enjoyed this month’s Fictorians’ posts on new beginnings. As I am typing this, I am sitting in my newly finished basement, in the new house we built in 2016, and am about to head to the Superstars Writing Seminars. I’m also starting a new novel and looking forward to a new year.

Some of the posts I found the most interesting and helpful were those where the author embarked on a new direction after deciding a previous effort was not working out. Taking motivation from rejection, using a new start to rekindle a love of writing, taking a leap into a new genre… All of them were helpful and entertaining.

I hope our readers found them helpful. It was my deliberate desire to provide new writers, or writers who were dealing with difficulties and lack of motivation some encouragement and ideas.

I’d like to thank all of the Fictorians who posted, and would like to especially thank this month’s guest posters. As far as I’m concerned, you all hit it out of the park.

Now, on to Superstars!

An Appetite for Rejection

A guest post from Jeff Sullins, award-winning short story author.

Emerging from the holidays and vacation time at year’s end, it’s a daunting task to crawl back in front of a keyboard and get back to writing. I first must wade through a hundred distractions, some new, many returning from being temporarily laid aside. Finally, after cleaning the office, catching up on the day job, caring for sick children, and so on, it’s time to write. Maybe.

For me, writing is all about motivation. Everyone has ideas, or at least, the seeds of ideas. Turning those seeds into something interesting, that’s what it’s all about. But it takes work, and work takes motivation. And that’s the tricky bit.

Some would say it’s more about finding time. I will concede that time, or the lack of it, may be a factor. But it’s my assertion that the time exists if we want it to. It’s motivation–the magic that turns desire into work–that is the necessary catalyst for writing to happen. Time will fall into place if the motivation is there. At the risk of making enemies, let me throw this down: “lack of time” is an excuse. One excuse among many. Perhaps, one that may harbor a grain of truth every now and then, but still an excuse. In my, ah, less-than-humble opinion, I suppose.

This brings to mind a quote I like to refer to when I find myself lacking the motivation to get back to the stories I need to finish. While I haven’t been speaking about writer’s block specifically, I choose to interpret writer’s block as a simple lack of motivation to push the creative process forward:

“Writer’s block does not exist. It’s just a form of laziness. Or distraction. Or, perhaps in the case of some true genius, a form of madness.” –James V. Smith Jr.

I can safely exclude myself from the category of true genius, and am known to be an exceptionally lazy person. I need a new kick in the pants to find some motivation. Already nearly a week into the new year, and three short stories languish “almost finished” on my computer, having petered out in the face of holiday cheer.

After pondering how to give myself that kick, I have decided that in 2017 I will make use of a limitless, free resource to find motivation! This resource requires a minimal effort to obtain (I always like that), and comes straight from great minds steeped in writing knowledge.

Is it a book? No. A seminar? No. I am referring to rejection letters, of course!

I’ve become a fair collector of rejection letters, as I’ll assume everyone has. But what about these letters, perhaps more accurately termed simply rejection notes, could be considered motivating? Well, sometimes there is useful feedback in the note. That’s a high-value rejection, a treasure worth seeking.

Then there’s the even rarer, but highly rewarding, “we almost published your story” rejection. Here is one I received just before the holidays for one of my own stories:

“Dear Jeff,
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read your story, <redacted>.
Although the decision was close, we have decided not to accept it. However, please know that your story made it to our final stage of consideration, something less than 10% of all submissions achieve.”

Now that is motivating! If I had only been a little more careful, or had taken a little more of my beta reader’s critiques to heart, I would have cleared the final hurdle. Coming close can be even more motivating than scoring a win, if you ask me. Well, up to a point.

More often than not, though, a rejection is merely a polite “no thanks.” But that, too, can be motivating in the right hands. How? Well, not without a willingness to accept some contrived goals, I admit.

For me, it will go something like this: every time I receive a rejection, I will either create a new draft of an existing story, or write 3,000 words in a new story. I’m still working on the details, so perhaps some adjustment will be in order. But the idea is there.

I think it might also be fun to collect a journal of rejections, too. Sort of a “greatest hits” album with no hits. But, one thing at a time. For now, I’ve got to send off some drafts and earn some rejections! And who knows, maybe 2017 will be the year I break a personal record for the number of rejections I can generate. If I do, it will mean I’ve been busy writing, and I’ll count that as a success.

Jeff Sullins works in the software industry by day and attempts to keep up with two young children the rest of the time. A former musician, game designer, and programmer, he’s begun to explore the strange new world of fiction writing.

Reframing Failure

A few years back, I had a conversation about horses that changed how I viewed my writing career. A dear friend of mine was telling me a story about when she was teaching her son how to ride a horse. She had grown up on a West Texas ranch and wanted to pass that legacy on to the next generation. One day he was thrown by the animal and landed hard. My friend went to her son to ensure that he hadn’t been seriously hurt. Once she had confirmed that he would be okay, she stood over him in the dust and heat of the Texan summer. Her boy was on the verge of tears, but she didn’t try to sooth him. Instead, she told him that he needed to choose if he really wanted to know how to ride. If he didn’t, he could sit and cry, and that would be fine. But “cowboys don’t cry,” and if he really wanted that life he would need to show her how tough he really was. He’d need to stand up and go show that animal that he wasn’t afraid of it. He needed to take back his power, right now or not at all.

There’s a reason that the phrase “get back in the saddle” is a cliché for starting again after a failure. If you’ve never ridden a horse, you can’t know what it feels like to have a thousand pounds of animal underneath you. To feel the shifting of muscle and sway of the saddle as your mount walks. Or know the sensation of speed and power as the horse runs. As a rider, you are only in control as much as the mount’s training or your own skill allows you to be. All the while, you are aware that falling or being thrown can be a bone breaking, paralyzing, or mortal experience. For new riders, it’s frightening. And for good reason.

Most humans are programmed to avoid painful situations. Sometimes it’s something we’ve already experienced, and others it is simply the anticipation of harm that warns us away. While this instinct helps us survive, it doesn’t allow us to grow. We only develop as individuals if we are challenged, pushed to leave our comfort zones, and are forced to adapt. In doing so, however, we risk mental, emotional, or physical hardship. And no one gets through life unscathed.

Little did my friend know that when she told me that story, I was struggling with my own fall, just of a less literal nature. I had recently been rejected by an agent that I had queried a few weeks before. It wasn’t even a personalized rejection, but rather a form letter that was addressed to “Dear Author”. I was embarrassed, angry with myself, and ashamed of my failure. I was still lying in the dirt, hurt and wallowing. However, I needed to make a decision.

I wasn’t considering quitting writing. Storytelling was and still is my passion. I had been warned that rejection letters were inevitable and that I would need to develop a thick skin to being told “thank you, but no.” However, rejection letters have a powerful effect on us writers because they feed the part of our brain teeming with doubt. I was trying to decide what that particular rejection meant for me and my story. Did I still believe in these characters? Did I still believe that the work represented the best of my skills? Was the problem something in my query letter or my manuscript? I didn’t know and so was paralyzed by indecision.

My friend’s story reminded me that I was letting the letter have power over my actions and needed to show it, and myself, that I wasn’t afraid of it anymore.

And so, I decided to reframe my problem. Quite literally. I went to the store and spent about five dollars on a plain, black, plastic picture frame. I printed out the first page of the rejection and hung it on the wall in my office. I stepped back, looked at my framed failure, and told myself aloud that this was a step in the process. I would fail again. I would succeed. I’d hang each on my wall because I owned them, they did not own me.

In the years since, I’ve added many more black frames to my wall. However, I’ve also added a few silver frames, my wins. There aren’t many silvers in comparison to the blacks, but they would not exist at all had I not decided to move past my fear and self-pity to keep pushing myself to grow. Each time I look at that wall, I am reminded of what those failures taught me, and that I have persevered. Despite the failures, I am still writing, still submitting, and still growing. With enough hard work and determination, I will have my writing career. I just need to keep dusting myself off after each and every failure and choosing what I really want.