Job Hunting, Horror Mags & the Art of Rejection

As Steven King said;

"The nail on my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing"

If you're job hunting right now, I feel you. The daily LinkedIn grind, the ghosting after carefully crafted cover letters, the Kafkaesque forms demanding every reference since birth—it’s soul-sapping.

At first, every rejection hit hard. These days, I celebrate just hearing back, even if it’s a no.

But scrolling through job posts every day got a bit depressing, so I needed to do something I love.

That thing is writing. 

Not job-related stuff—actual fun writing. Usually at 5am with the dog in the garden, while the rest of the world sleeps (except the birds).

And honestly? It’s kept me sane.

One sleep-deprived night, I wrote a silly horror piece and, on a whim, sent it to SCREAM magazine—my favourite guilty pleasure.

Didn’t expect a reply, but lo and behold, the editor wrote back: he loved my style! Teenage-level excitement.

The brief: 3,000+ words on Watership Down, and free rein. Woo hoo! I researched, wrote like a maniac, and proudly sent it off.

Then came the email: “Just heard back from proofreaders. The style’s not really SCREAM, to be honest.”

Ouch.

Existential spiral of doom: Am I rubbish at writing and UX? And, well, EVERYTHING? Wine was poured. I sat on the sofa feeling sorry for myself, staring at my email response. 

But then, with hurt pride, I did the grown-up thing. I asked for feedback.

The editor replied (good man): “Nothing wrong with the writing, Nat. Your style’s just a bit too complicated for SCREAM. You should be writing books!”

Okay, maybe a kind lie, but appreciated. I had a think. This is a mag I read all the time. How did I mess up the tone? I dug out some old copies and read through. He was right—I hadn’t matched the tone. 

Due to over-excitement, I’d skipped the groundwork I’d do at my day job. 

I user-tested myself (yes, really): 

Why do I read SCREAM? For fun, not deep thought.

I flick through it on the sofa, often with some Netflix series I'm half watching in the background, or in the garden with the radio on, while half (well, nearly half) listening to my partner. I flip between articles, starting some, picking another, finishing the first one later. That’s why I love it. It’s escapism (and well written I might add).

So I’m rewriting it. Maybe they’ll say no again. That’s okay. It’s all learning.

The key takeaway (N.B., I hate this term. But every bugger seems to be using it. I blame AI)? Rejection isn’t always failure—it’s feedback. And when someone takes the time to offer it, take it. And if you’re in a position to offer it, please do. Don’t ghost.

Top tip from me - For instant rejection recovery: blast Murray’s Rejection Song from Flight of the Concords. Trust me.

Good luck out there—and SCREAM, I really appreciate the feedback. 'I’ll be right back!'