And here’s what happened:

No, I didn’t get into Glamour or O magazines. A prayer wasn’t answered. A miracle was yet to be seen.

Instead, last year’s queries were answered by this year’s, “I’m sorry your idea doesn’t fit with the current needs of the magazine.”

After listening to my heart shatter for a few minutes, I put myself back together like Humpty Dumpty. I realized that one rejecting letter, did not a failure make.

So this is what I did:

I contacted the publication again. I shared my gratitude for the reply. After all, most times I never hear from a company again. At least I knew one way or another that they were not interested. Then, I took action.

For the magazine that I submitted a completed manuscript, I tried again. Three times total in fact. And by the third submission, I instead of striking out, I made a home run. The result was an article published in the February issue of Animal Wellness magazine.

For the company that emailed me to let me know that I didn’t have the “right” qualifications for their freelance writing position, I asked them if they could let me know exactly what these qualifications were so I could try again in the future. The CEO not only wrote back a nice email but gave me the name of the managing editor who could help me.

For the publication who sent me a rejection letter for an idea I had, I emailed them saying that I would still love to one day be in their magazine and would work hard to get there. The editor sent me an immediate email saying that she would love to get more ideas from me and let me know what section of the magazine she needed to fill.

Here’s what I learned:

A rejection letter is not necessarily a closed door. Sometimes it is a gateway to other opportunities. If you are courteous, passionate, courageous and determined, it could be your opening to publish your best writing yet.

Sherri Shepherd has a book coming out entitled, “Permission Slips.” If I had a book coming out, I’d call it, “Rejection Slips.” I’m sure every writer gets them. Those standard letters or brief emails that says, “Sorry the position is filled. We liked you but…” So close, and yet so far.

How do you keep querying, writing, and pursuing your dream as a freelance writer, when you keep getting those heartbreaking slips?

1. Have a daily reminder of why you’re doing this posted nearby. I have a dream board online and a bulletin board filled with magazine cut-outs of my goals on my wall to remind me about all of my hopes and dreams.
2. Read books written for other writers.  When I read the words by authors like Betsy Lerner of “The Forest for the Trees,” I am immediately comforted in knowing that even uber-successful writers have days of doubt.  We all need to start somewhere.
3. Have a good cry.  Sometimes getting a rejection letter feels like high school all over again.  Listen to some sappy, sad love song and let it out.  Or better yet, use your sadness as fuel for your writing.  Diane Keaton’s character in my favorite movie “Something’s Gotta Give” did it and I loved her for it.
4. Learn from your mistakes.  I learn a ton from watching my pet rabbit.  He is a risk-taker, always trying new things.  But when he fell once from jumping from one chair to another, he learned his lesson and never did it again.  That doesn’t mean that he never tried jumping on chairs again, just never that same combination of chairs.
5. Take a break.  Before you breakdown, maybe you need to take a break.  Take a half hour or an hour and do anything non-writing related.  Meditate, go for a walk, watch your favorite TV program.  After letting the dust settle, you might remember that you’re a lot stronger than a few rejection slips.
6. Don’t give up!  There’s all kinds of reasons why we should quit.  The pay isn’t always great.  The odds of being the next J.K. Rowling is slim to none. And frankly, it sucks to get rejected time and time again.  But all we need is one.  One editor to believe in us.  One chance to write beautifully.  And the feeling you get when you get it… well, that’s worth its weight in hundreds of rejections.