For Writers Who’ve Been Told “No”
By Robert Stanek
This one is for you.
The writer who’s been rejected more times than they can count.
The one who’s been ghosted by agents, ignored by editors, mocked by “friends.”
The one who’s been told your stories are too weird, too real, too raw.
The one who’s read “not a fit for our list” so many times you hear it in your sleep.
You know who you are.
You write anyway.
I Know What It Feels Like
I was there.
Not before Ruin Mist—during.
After it became a #1 bestseller. After it reached classrooms.
After it topped Audible and was read around the world.
Even then, the no’s kept coming.
Not because the books weren’t connecting.
But because I didn’t wait for permission.
They told me I wasn’t real.
That the reviews weren’t real.
That the readers weren’t real.
That the success didn’t count.
All because I hadn’t gone through them.
And when the lies started piling up?
They didn’t just try to erase my work.
They tried to erase me.
Here’s What They Won’t Tell You
The publishing world doesn’t reject you because your story has no value.
It rejects you because your story doesn’t fit.
- Too bold.
- Too quiet.
- Too brown. Too queer. Too working-class. Too experimental. Too political. Too spiritual. Too niche.
They say, “Your writing isn’t quite there.”
But what they mean is: “We don’t know how to sell this without risking our comfort.”
That’s what they protect.
That’s why they say no.
You threaten comfort by daring to tell the truth.
What To Do With the “No”
You write anyway.
You publish anyway.
You build your own platform.
You find your own people.
You don’t wait for the gates to open.
You climb over the wall.
You tell your story like it’s the last thing you’ll ever say—because maybe it is.
Because maybe it saves someone.
Because maybe it saves you.
No doesn’t mean you’re wrong.
No doesn’t mean you’re broken.
No doesn’t mean you’re done.
No just means you’re ahead of them.
Let Me Tell You What I Wish Someone Had Told Me
- Your story is valid—even if it never gets a deal.
- Your words matter—even if they never get an award.
- Your audience is out there—even if the system can’t see them.
- Your voice is enough—even when the world tells you to whisper.
You don’t need a contract to be a writer.
You need you.
Your words.
Your courage to let them live.
You’re Not Alone
Every time someone said “no” to me, I told the story anyway.
Every time someone tried to bury my books, readers found them anyway.
Every time someone tried to take my voice, I wrote louder.
You are not too late.
You are not too small.
You are not the exception—you are the example.
The one who gets up.
The one who writes back.
The one who dares to say: “You don’t get to decide who I become.”
I Wrote Ruin Mist For You
It’s a story of exile. Of power feared. Of voices lost and found.
It’s a world where:
- A girl refuses to be silenced.
- A rogue tells the truth no one wants to hear.
- A boy discovers he’s more than what the world says he’s allowed to be.
It’s your story too.
If you’ve ever been told no—
If you’ve ever wondered if your voice matters—
I’m here to say: It does.
I’m still here.
And you can be too.