"Reject ME, will you?  I reject YOU!!!" (insert maniacal cackling)

Near-death experiences are pretty much expected at auto races and in the Intensive Care Unit of any hospital.  It shouldn't occur when you open the mail or get into your e-mailbox.

I spoke last week about receiving a rejection to your creative efforts.  It can be a demoralizing experience until you have your emotional shields up and working.  And even then, it may sting a little because you put some work into that, right?  Whether it's girding your loins for an audition or sending off some art or a piece of your writing.  It's like hearing that your children are too short to ride the roller coaster they've been aching to experience for what seems forever.

First, give yourself a few minutes to grieve.  You put forth the effort to create, research your market, and then submit, so you're entitled to a moment.  Walk around the block.  Use this as an excuse to buy something nice.  Console yourself that your efforts would have been accepted if the buyer/producer had a human soul.  Then close the door on the pity party.

Now here's where you make your work stronger.  Let's start out with looking at your writing.

You've probably not seen your baby for a couple of months.  Take a cold, calculating look at the work.  Read it aloud once again.  You did read it aloud when you first sent it out, right?  Sure, it feels wacky/crazy/demented/creepy but your writing can't read any better than it sounds.  Make sure it sounds right, which is always a good reason to brush up on your elocution and vocabulary.  If you find yourself wanting to rush through speaking the piece, chances are your audience can't wait for it to end either -- and I don't mean rushing to find out how it ends so much as when.

This is where you get the opportunity to re-evaluate your work, rewrite it if necessary, and then send it out, a stronger work than before.

If you are auditioning for a part, this is where you can re-run your "gaffs" and instead of kicking yourself for committing them, even if inadvertently, you can re-rehearse and strengthen your presentation.  And remember that sometimes, a producer or director may see what they're looking for anyway.

A personal aside here: once, I auditioned for a local production of The Music Man.  My goal was to snag the role of Charlie, the anvil salesman.  Well, I did just about everything wrong that an actor could do during the audition.  First of all, I showed up 20 minutes late.  By then, the dancing piece was rehearsed and everyone floated like the Law of Gravity had been repealed.  My reading was okay, but then we had to sing and my voice wasn't warmed up.  I left the audition ready to give up singing, dancing, acting, writing, and living.  I was morose for two solid days over my total fubar of an audition.

However, I received a phone call from one of the stage managers.  I was told that didn't get the role of Charlie, which I expected, and waited for the plea to never audition again ... a request that never came because I was offered the role of Mayor Shinn, a much meatier role.  So sometimes, you're a good fit ... sometimes you aren't ... but what good will it do to fill your time with regret.

I've heard it said that to get almost any job, you need to be 1) talented, 2) good with deadlines, and 3) a good person.  But what if you don't sell your script or snag that role? 

Thank them anyway.

When you receive any sort of rejection, just drop a friendly line, reminding them of your work ("my audition for the role of Q.C. Proops in your production of Jekyll and Hyde," "my one-act play Beach Blanket Bazinga," "my novelization of The Two Towers," etc.) and to thank them for the opportunity. 

This places your name in the back of TPTB's mind.  Next time, if it's a choice between you and someone of comparable talent, your total class and positive attitude will stick in their minds.  It could give you the edge you need to land that next gig because you sound like someone who they will want to work with

Perhaps they'll even wonder if they made the correct choice after all.

I've heard of people who've lost out on jobs who later got a call when the first candidate didn't work out.  If nothing else, you may establish a relationship with someone who may even become a friend later on.  I know it's worked for me in the past and you lose nothing from the effort.

But what's most important is to think of yourself like a shark.  You must swim, constantly move forward to survive.  Keep writing ... continue to work on your monologue ... work those strings ... continue to create and to get better at what you do.  Eventually, you can turn those rejections into contacts, productions, and paychecks.

"You hate me ... you really hate me ... "

No one ever died from being told "no" ... well, maybe Socrates when he asked, "You got something I can chase this hemlock with?"

When you get that letter, phone call, or e-mail saying that you've been turned down, it should never be a reason for celebration.  If that's the case, you should have your temperature taken and the thermometer placed nowhere near your mouth.  No one enjoys rejection for any reason.  In any creative field, someone not desiring your services seems especially painful.

A writer may spend hours polishing their blog content.  In the case of an article or a poem, it could be days.  And with novels or full-length plays, we could be talking about years of concerted effort.  After investing all that sweat equity, to say nothing of locating a market for your talents and taking the time and trouble to present your work, it hurts just a little (or a lot, depending on how much you wanted the acceptance) to be turned down.

Even in the case of an actor, that person could have read the script, rehearsed a song, or memorized a monologue for the audition.  This doesn't count the years spent learning to put together a role inside one's head, much less the time spent in training the voice, learning to move on stage, or just finding a way to commit the lines and blocking to memory.  In writing, anything that comes from the keyboard reflects the living and processing of a lifetime's worth of stimuli.  It's become almost cliche to liken our stories to our genetic progeny, but still ...

While it still may sting to receive a rejection, I just remind myself of several things.  First of all, and foremost, they are not rejecting me as a creative person or as a human being.  Heck, they don't even know me.  The only contact they have -- or may ever have -- is the creative product I've put before them. 

Since I've been in the position of being able to accept writing or to cast performers, it's never really personal.  The overall work must be of primary importance.  Does this fit the overall design?  Will it/they work well alongside others?  It might be good.  It might be brilliant.  However, it may not be a good fit for the project and there's nothing wrong with that. 

Years ago, I submitted a short play to a production company in the hopes that it would be included in their Christmas-themed night of plays.  Of course, it had Santa Claus in it ... but I wanted to do something that wouldn't be too saccharine or overly sentimental so I added a dollop of dark humor to it.  Naturally, I didn't exactly capture the warmth of the holiday within my work (when was the last time you heard the words "advanced decomposition" in a Christmas play?) so I wasn't surprised when the note came back that it didn't fit the evening's overall theme.  I was told the committee found it quite amusing ... horrifying, but amusing.  But hey, ya gotta try!

Instead of treating a rejection as if it said that you had two months to live, you should find positive uses for it.  Use it to 1) learn, 2) keep the door open for future submissions, and 3) make them wonder if they made the right choice after all.  How can you do that?

I'll cover that next time around. 

So what have been some of your most memorable rejections?  Did any crush you, if only for a little while?  Or did they inspire you to keep trying?  Leave me some comments, okay?