Another rejection letter landed in my mailbox recently and I didn’t toss it in the recycling bin as quickly as I used to. Instead, I read it carefully. Because I’ve learned that you never know what gold you may find. It used to be that to rid myself of the sting of “no” I would scan the letter and throw it away almost in one motion. I wanted to rid myself of that rejected feeling asap.
Then, once, as I was skimming, I read this sentence: “We encourage you to apply again next year.”
Hmmm. I thought. “I bet they say that to everyone.”
I decided to find out if they did in fact write that to everyone so I called the organization. After thanking them for reviewing my application, Isaid, “I’m just wondering but did everyone receive the same rejection letter? Because mine encouraged me to apply again next year.”
“We had two rejection letters we sent,” the woman said. “So you received the better one.”
This wasn’t the acceptance I wanted but this meant a lot: it was encouragement to keep going. It was an invitation to look at my work again. It was what all artists want: an audience.
Here’s a few sentences from that last rejection I received:
We received more than 1,500 applications and can offer 40 residencies. Though your application did not advance into the final round this year, we want you to know that your work resonated with our reviewers. Sending work into the world is an act of bravery, and we appreciate the opportunity to experience your voice.
I didn’t need to call them this time.
Of course I was sorry to lose but this letter provided some gold. First, it showed me just how stiff the competition was this year. Second, it complemented my work and acknowledged my bravery. That took the sting out, and even better, propelled me back to the writing desk.
Also, I made a mental note for the next time I need to write a rejection letter: What I write can either open up a relationship or shut it down. Because of this organization’s nice letter, even though they rejected me, I still feel warmly toward them. Perhaps I’ll take a workshop with them or, when I’m feeling generous, give them a donation. In other words, they haven’t lost me.