Submitting your work, whether to agents, publishers or competitions, carries an inherent risk: rejection. Rejections are disappointing, but they mustn’t derail your writing. There are two important things to do following a rejection, then two key standpoints to keep in mind.
The first thing to do is allow yourself to feel the disappointment for a short time. After all the waiting and hoping, it’s only human to be crestfallen. You may believe that your work has not been understood. Or worse, that the reader/editor/judge understood, but didn't care enough. Either way, it is natural to feel dejected.
But a short time is enough. This is not a stumbling block. It can’t be allowed to become a setback. You must continue to write. The rejection mustn’t interfere with your work-in-progress. It’s all your writing and there’s so much to do. Why linger on one piece when there is more work—new work—to be done?
Don't fret about the hours, days, weeks, even years, you have spent on something which is ultimately not accepted or does not flourish in line with your hopes. The time it took is essential to the creative process. It has not been a waste. You have been practising your craft and - hopefully - you have enjoyed and learned from it. Provided you view it as a positive experience, you have succeeded in building foundations for future projects.
So the second thing to do is to accept the rejection: to bear and acknowledge it, however disheartening it feels. This time, your work was not chosen. On this occasion, the agent or editor did not find it sufficiently compelling or the contest judge preferred some of the other submissions. A colossal number of authors are also receiving their rejection emails from agencies or editors. Thousands of disappointed writers were, like you, hoping to see their title on a competition list. No one can pre-determine the likelihood of victory. It isn't a quantifiable process. Submitting creative work carries the risk of disappointment for every entrant and most will have to suffer.
The story, poem or novel you are writing now is far more important than the submission which has just been turned down. You have already given it your full attention. You still have ownership. And you can look at it again when you’re ready. This is all part of being a writer: the novel declined by all the agents whose preferences you carefully researched, the short story which failed to impress a magazine editor, the flash-fiction which didn’t rise from the competition longlist to shortlist, the poem you hoped would achieve more than an honourable mention. They come from the same stable as the novel which will be accepted for publication, the story which will win the next competition you enter, the poem which was a runner-up last year. It is all your writing, all your work. Some of it has thrived, some hasn’t. Some of it will do well, some won’t. There will be plenty of brief wallows along with the occasional celebration, successes hand-in-hand with failures.
It’s fine to use the word failure – if a piece doesn’t win through, it has failed to fulfil your hopes on this occasion. Another time, when a new opportunity to submit comes along, it may succeed. Sometimes failure, sometimes success. When you become a writer, that’s what you sign up for.
The first key standpoint to bear in mind after a rejection is focus. Concentrate on your work-in-progress, not on your disappointment. If you dwell on the frustration, your mind will not be clear enough to keep writing. Which is a far greater loss than this one setback.
The second key standpoint is confidence. You had a degree of confidence in your work when you submitted. Don’t lose it. Some of the other submissions won the judge over this time. Other novels enchanted the agent more than yours did. The magazine editor was bowled over by someone else's short story. Yours has not risen above theirs this time. That’s all that has happened. This is not a reason to doubt your ability now. This is the perfect time to keep going, so that another time, your work will triumph.
You can’t focus unless you feel confident. And you can't be confident unless you are prepared to focus - really focus - on the task in hand. If you waver, you won’t be writing. If you wallow, you won’t be writing. So wallow briefly, then get on with business.