I have three stories I’ve worked on tirelessly—polishing, rewriting, and whittling them down until, at least in my mind, they glisten. Unfortunately, literary magazine editors disagree, and the rejection stings.
Now I’m left wondering: what should I do with these stories? Should I self-publish? Keep submitting them? Seek more feedback? Let them rest for a while and revisit them later? Or, in a moment of dramatic flair, should I print them out and burn them?
The biggest question of all: is external validation from an editor the only end goal?
I’ve been rereading Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, which led me to reflect on whether writing simply for the sake of writing is enough for me.
Of course, I see the irony in looking to Elizabeth Gilbert—a wildly successful author whose Eat, Pray, Love was adapted into a film starring Julia Roberts—for guidance on handling rejection. (Confession: I’ve never read Eat, Pray, Love, and I don’t plan to. I did read one of her novels and hated it.)
And yet, Big Magic struck a chord:
“You can measure your work by your dedication to your path, not your successes or failures.”
Here’s the thing: I’ve never thought of myself as an exceptionally dedicated person. I don’t dedicate—I dabble. I write, draw, paint, make, code, dye, play. Please don’t ask me to fit into a box or narrow myself down. I won’t.
When I heard that voice in the shower saying, “Write, you idiot,” I didn’t take it as a command to give up all other creative endeavors. I just started writing more than ever before. In 2023 and 2024, I wrote more than I ever have. But my journey with writing didn't start there. It began when I was a child, scribbling stories on copier paper, and it has evolved over the years, intertwining with my other creative pursuits. Does that make me dedicated?
Gilbert also writes about rejection. After years of getting nowhere with her submissions, she decided it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter.
I don’t fully believe her. I don’t think she’s lying, but I suspect rejection did matter to her—it just didn’t stop her. She decided to press on. For every rejection she received, she sent another query.
Lately, I’ve been asking myself: can I write without external validation?
But maybe that’s the wrong question.
The better question might be: can I write in spite of not getting external validation?
I don’t have the answer yet.
In Big Magic, Gilbert recounts a talk she attended in which a speaker told an audience member to quit writing if they weren’t getting the results they wanted and to start again if nothing else could fill the void.
“I’m afraid you will have no choice but to persevere,” Gilbert concludes.
And in my own way, I will persevere, too.
My dear daughter, since you could form words you have been a writer. Did you need external validation back then? I think not. I believe you wrote for the joy of putting down thoughts and feelings on paper. Because that was (and still is) how you expressed what was in your sensitive heart and brilliant, creative mind. You will need to keep writing. It's part of who you are.
Beautifully introspective piece. I know you'll figure it out.