If you follow me on social media, you’ve maybe noticed that I’ve shared a string of good news in the last month or two. New book contract! A book tour! The Lost Girl of Astor Street is on sale! (The ebook is currently $1.99.)

This all looks very exciting. And it is very exciting. It’s also only a part of the story. The shiny, pretty part. Here are parts of my writing life in 2019 that I didn’t photograph and post on social:

  • I had two books rejected this year. The first, I had spent six months planning, refining, and writing the first draft. The second I spent four months planning, refining, and writing a couple chapters. (Didn’t write the whole thing this time. I had learned that much!)
  • Me snapping at my kids and husband. In the weeks before I left for California for my book tour, my anxiety ground away at my inner peace, and it made me snappy with those I care about most.
  • Me staring into my closet, teary and shaking because I didn’t know how to pack for four days of book talks. What’s an author “supposed” to look like when she visits schools?
  • The cheeseburger I inhaled in about 5 minutes when my first talk was over. Due to stress, it had been almost two days since I was able to eat a full meal, and I was hungry after that first talk and book signing.

Many of you are waaaaaay more knowledgeable than I was as a pre-published writer, but back before my first contract I really thought rejection and feeling inadequate as a writer happened just to writers who weren’t published yet. I believed that lie of “the first book is the hardest to sell.” I thought my days of vague rejections, of feeling like not-enough were over when I signed that first contract.

The truth is, every writer you know and love experiences regular rejection. Maybe it’s a book idea they submitted to their publisher, and they don’t love it. Maybe it’s a reader hating their latest book and spreading the word loud and clear on Goodreads. Maybe it’s low sales or a bad turnout at a book signing. Maybe it’s as small as a social media post not performing like they thought it would.

You know who else regularly deals with rejection? Editors and agents. Acquisitions editors and literary agents frequently have projects they love and care about that get rejected.

There’s no escaping that rejection is a part of the creative life. So, once we’ve acknowledged that, what can we do when it inevitably comes?

Remind yourself that social media is not the whole story.

If you don’t have writing friends already, someday you will. And as we become friends with other writers, or we follow authors we admire on Instagram, it’s easy to think they’re doing better than we are. Maybe they’ve signed more contracts, or they’re doing more school visits, or they seem to love their WIP more than you love your WIP.

Whatever it is, please, please, please remind yourself that this isn’t the whole story. This is just the piece they’re comfortable sharing.

Remind yourself that you’re a writer.

Some days, I feel like a writer.

Other days—even with actual published books on my office shelves—I have to take extra steps to remind myself that I’m a Real Writer.

Back in May, I was deeply disappointed when I found out my book idea had been rejected. It was a soft rejection—”We don’t want this, but we’d love to see something else from you”—and at first that didn’t matter. All those months of work, all my enthusiasm for this project, a finished first draft, and now it was all for nothing??? Cue weeping and gnashing of teeth.

I was miserable about this for a few days, and then amidst all the internal grumbling, I had a really profound thought:

I’m a writer. I can come up with another idea. That’s what writers do.

Deep, right?

As sad as I was about this idea not working out, I realized that if there was anything I knew for sure, it was that another story idea would come.

Being upset about rejection in its various forms is normal. I’ve experienced low feelings even for relatively small rejections, like a critique partner disliking my draft, or an acquaintance making fun of the kind of books I write.

Acknowledging that rejection hurts is a good thing to do. But don’t stay there.

Post it in your writing space if you must, but remind yourself that you’re a writer. This one rejection, regardless of how big or little, doesn’t define you.

Find your people.

Find people with whom you can be your most authentic self, whether they’re writers or not.

I experienced deep panic and fears of rejection as I tried to pack for my book tour. I wanted to look nice . . . but not like I was trying to look extra nice. I suddenly hated all the clothes in my closet. Who even picked these out??? (Oh, right. Me…)

I needed help as I rejected myself, so I pulled in my people. Roseanna lives far away, but I took pictures of all my outfits to see what she thought. Two other friends were over for dinner that night, and when I confessed my closet meltdown to them, they immediately offered to help. They even loaned me additional clothes and jewelry.

When we are going through rejection—especially when it’s us rejecting ourselves—we need our people to speak truth to us.

Keep a list of what helps.

If you have things that you know help you when you’re feeling stressed, afraid, or navigating rejection, write those things down for yourself.

Ten years ago, as I prepared for a school visit and was desperately nervous, I happened to be reading Exodus, where God asks Moses to speak to Pharaoh and Moses is like, “I’m not good with words.” Reading that was so meaningful to me. Even people who are literally asked by God to go to a speaking engagement feel insecure!

So in California, as I paced my hotel room feeling jittery and alone before my first talk, I pulled up my Bible app and read the story aloud to myself. I knew the passage had brought me peace once before, so I did it again.

I also packed several meaningful truths along with me that I usually keep in my office and posted them in my hotel room:

These are things that I know, but that I still find useful to repeat to myself when fear and doubt creep in.

Other things that work for me when I’m processing rejection:

  • Talking to my husband
  • Talking to my friends
  • Giving myself a little time off writing
  • Being in comfy clothes
  • Going for a run or taking a walk
  • Staying off social media for a little time
  • Soaking in the bath while listening to a good audio book.

What are your things? Start your own list so you’ll be ready.

Look for—and celebrate—what keeps your ego small.

When I got home to Kansas City, my husband and three kids picked me up at the airport. I thought the car smelled a little funky, and when I unloaded my 4-year-old at home thirty minutes later, I discovered I was right. He had some poop in some places.

I went from a week of being treated like a celebrity—being chauffeured around town, being invited to dinners and parties, being applauded for and having lines form to meet me afterward—to cleaning dried poop off another human being.

Even in that moment, as the swing in my status chafed, I knew it was good for me.

Have you spent time around people—young kids, maybe?—who get everything they want? Who never get told no? They’re the absolute worst. Not only that, they have no substance. The slightest bit of resistance knocks them right over.

You maybe think you want a rejection-free path to being published. I know I’ve wanted that before. But you really don’t. The struggle is where we build our own muscle and character. The struggle is what causes you to grow in your craft, in your compassion for other heartbroken writers, and in your discipline to do your absolute best. The struggle is where you find out if you really want to be a writer or if you just want to be someone who writes.

Because remember, you’re not just writing a book. You’re growing an author.