Writers and Editors

It is probably the result of suppressing painful memories, but I don't recall the first time someone rejected a piece of my writing. It probably happened when I was still in college and sent off an article to a national magazine. In any event, the life of every writer seems to include those awful, shocking moments when your work is rejected.

No matter how professionally the editor conducts him or herself, rejection hurts. As a long time editor, after a long time as a writer, I learned several lessons:

* Never reject a commissioned piece by email. It is an unforgivable insult. Have the courage to pick up the phone, at least, or ideally get together with the writer for a drink and have a chat. The cold language of rejection in email, whether in a creative situation or in a personal relationship, is cowardly.

* As an editor, you must admit your own role in the failure of the project. If you failed to give clear enough guidance, the writer can hardly be blamed. If you do not have sufficient authority (i.e., your boss or a collective group has the final say over an article's fate), the writer deserves to know that from the beginning.

* Do the right thing. Most magazines try to get off cheaply, and only pay a portion of the fee for rejected articles. But the writer still has devoted a lot of time and effort, regardless of the outcome, in faith that she will be paid her proper fee. I believe writers should always demand a 100% kill fee, but of course this is hard to do. Editors convince themselves that they are being fair and even generous if they pay 25, 33, or even 50% of the fee, but that is self-serving nonsense.

* Editors are custodians of their writers' feelings. It is difficult to write; you have to lay a bit of yourself on the line every time. The greatest editors have empathy. Weak editors do not.

* Protect your writers. If a piece falls short, you are obliged to say so at the earliest possible moment. Do not allow a manuscript to sit there, unread, when it is filed on deadline, and then reject it a month later! If I were to do that, I would feel a moral responsibility to save the writer's work (and her byline), by simply adding in whatever I deemed was lacking via an intern or an assistant or by my own labor.

* Never, ever, assign a failed piece to another writer! This is the ultimate insult, and completely unnecessary. If you are not talented enough yourself to edit/rewrite any particular piece, that is your problem, not the writer's!

If this sounds like a manifesto from the National Writers Union, I should mention that I was the negotiator on the very first contract gained by said union upon its emergence in the 1980s.

As I said, I do not recall my first rejection, but I do recall the pain. Each time I witness it for another vulnerable artist, I re-experience my own rejections. That happened today; thus this post, which comes straight from my heart.

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