When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
Some authors want to see their rejection letters from editors. Some don’t. For me, the worst is the writer who wants to parse every letter. Of course, I understand the need to unpack all the rejection language, but I’ve been doing this for over 30 years and what I’ve come to understand is this: rejection letters all say the exact same thing: no. And no is uninteresting if you’re in the business of getting to yes. Admittedly, sometimes a rejection letter can be interesting, informative, and helpful. But generally, the editor, when all is said and done, is being polite. It’s not right for them, they don’t have a vision for it, they aren’t passionate, they don’t know who the market is or how to reach them, they did a book just like it, they didn’t connect.
How do you handle rejection?
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Betsy Lerner 
go for a walk
Put Real Whip on everything that goes in my mouth that day. Except my multivitamin.
😂👏
“How do you handle rejection?”
That depends.
If it’s from an editor or agent, I log it in the appropriate database and carry on.
If it’s from a friend or loved one, it hurts more than they might imagine and more than I want them to know.
Ha, yes, yes yes!
In the writing world, I’ve developed a thick skin and can handle most rejections.
There’s a suck lemons moment but afterward, I can pretty much move on.
It’s the moment when you realize the dream may die. The publisher I used to work for had a freelancer to send out formal rejection letters. He called himself Dr. No.