The Rejection Resolution: Flipping the Script

By Michelle Barker

New Year, New Rejections

This will be the third year in a row that I have made a strange New Year’s resolution: I plan to get 100 rejections this year.

That’s right. I want to get rejections.

I wish this was my idea, but the credit properly belongs to Kim Liao. She wrote a post on Literary Hub that I found so inspiring I have embraced it as my annual challenge.

I know, nothing about this sounds intuitive. Why embrace rejection? And for God’s sake, why embrace 100 rejections? Getting rejected feels terrible. This sounds like an exercise in masochism.

But it’s all in how you approach it.

Flipping the Script 

As authors, we send out our work hoping for acceptance, of course. We’re aiming for it, maybe even expecting it on some level—so when we receive a rejection, it crushes us. And I don’t care how long you’ve been in this business, every rejection feels a bit like a kick in the gut.

But if you aim for rejection—a lot of rejection—the practical fallout is twofold: one, it means you’ll be sending out A LOT of submissions. And two, if you get any acceptances, you’ll be pleasantly surprised, because acceptance is not what you’re aiming for.

And I’ll tell you a secret: if you send out enough submissions to collect 100 rejections in a year, you will be very likely to get some acceptances.

Submissions can be a big umbrella 

2025 is almost over, and I’m up to seventy submissions, which is a lot more than I usually send out, but fewer than I’d intended. To be clear, I don’t just count manuscript submissions in this challenge. I count everything that involves me asking someone to put me out in the writing world in some form: residencies, podcasts, libraries carrying my book, readings, grants, conferences. Doesn’t matter. If I have to show up with my hat in my hand and ask someone to take a chance on me, it goes on the list.

This was a big year for me. Sure, I got tons of rejections. But I also got a research grant, a residency position, my co-authored book into several libraries, a piece in the Globe and Mail, a co-authored piece on a well-known blog, and several offers to present with my colleague at writing conferences. I also had some near misses that came with lovely letters of encouragement. Try us again next year. You were the first runner-up. I made note of these.

Practice creates fearlessness 

I’m a writer for a lot of reasons, but one of them is that being alone at my desk is my comfort zone. I’m not a fan of reaching out to important people and big-name events, asking if they’ll invest in me. Even though I know it’s part of the process, it’s the part I like least. 

But fear is paralyzing. In this business, it doesn’t serve you. The truth is simple: the more you do uncomfortable things, the less uncomfortable they become. Cheryl Strayed has a great line about that in her book, Wild: “Fear begets fear. Power begets power.” The more steps you take in the direction of empowerment, the more powerful (and less afraid) you will be. This has been an important part of the querying process for me.

And when you think about it, what’s the worst thing that can happen if you apply to a residency in the South of France or send your short story to The Atlantic? They’ll say no. So what? What if they say yes? You’ll never know if you don’t apply, submit, ask. The only thing that guarantees a no is not asking. Doing nothing.

Better the short story sits on their desk than on yours. If you’re getting rejected, it means you’re sending your work out. It means you’re taking risks, putting yourself out there—and that’s amazing.

Embrace the challenge 

So, authors, I challenge you to aim for 100 rejections this year. Query widely but also wisely. Don’t be indiscriminate with your choices but do take chances on big-name agents, lit mags, conferences, residencies—all those places you’re so sure will turn you down. They might. But they also might not.

If you send out enough submissions to garner 100 rejections, I can almost guarantee there’ll be a few surprises in your inbox in 2026.

What writing-related resolutions are you planning to embrace in the coming year? Leave a comment below. I want to hear about them!

Michelle Barker is an award-winning author and poet. She is the co-author of two craft books: Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling and Story Skeleton: The Classics. Her fiction, non-fiction, and poetry have appeared in literary reviews worldwide. She has published three YA novels (one fantasy and two historical fiction), a historical picture book, and a chapbook of poetry. Michelle holds a BA in English literature (UBC) and an MFA in creative writing (UBC). Many of the writers she’s worked with have gone on to win publishing contracts and honours for their work. Michelle lives and writes in Vancouver, Canada.