Facing Rejection in Publishing: Why I’m Still Writing About Mental Health for Kids

“I’ve read your sample and I’m going to have to pass. I don’t have a strong enough vision or enough excitement for the project to help you develop it. Even if the concept or topic is timely.”

Each rejection hurts.

My husband will tell me, “remember why you did this.” But I admitted to him, that’s sort of why it hurts more.

The Search for Validation

Writers who push to publish often have a story that’s lived within them for so long. Whatever their motivation—financial, legacy, healing, validation—that’s their true narrative. Mine? Not financial. Just existence.

I saved money, I marketed, I kickstarted, I worked odd jobs to make this happen. I told people out loud so I couldn’t back away quietly. I created this blog to share the messy truths. I built my own path to publish.

When I first queried, I did it all wrong. I rushed. I missed things. I sent it before I decided to change editors. I didn’t have the polished “package” traditional publishing demands. & honestly? It was because somewhere in all of the rushing, I was looking for validation.

Validation that it was okay to write about depression. Validation that someone else saw the importance of this conversation for kids. I hoped, so deeply, that someone would say, “This resonates.” That someone would think it was worth a little work.

The Cool Kids’ Table of Publishing

But that’s not how traditional publishing works. I’ve learned: 

-They want polished. 

-They rarely break the mold. 

-They trend with the times. Which right now seems to be avoiding SEL. 

-They avoid varying POVs. They avoid words they don’t think kids can handle.

But I kept querying anyway. Because deep down, I want approval. It feels so high school sometimes—like I have my own circle (self-publishing authors, mental health podcasters, my joy team) but the “cool kids” still won’t let me sit with them. Why am I so unrelatable?

The Stigma Around Writing About Depression

The last rejection cut deep. “I don’t get excited about this.” I felt ashamed—ashamed for daring to bring mental health into children’s books, ashamed for admitting I have to talk to my own kids about it. Like I couldn’t just create happy animals doing happy things, like every cloud in our life should be hidden away.

&—I don’t have a romantic ending to this post. I’m still processing. But I am pushing through these clouds. This week I’m meeting with my illustrator, building my ARC reader list, sending out emails, and even painting preorder swag with my kids.

Choosing Resilience Over Silence

I’m still here. Still writing. Still querying—because I carry this stubborn hope that someone, somewhere, will see value in parenting with depression. That they’ll understand it matters to be the parent willing to talk about this, with more words, deeper emotion, and a touch of whimsical truth.

✨Preorders are open until November, with 10% of proceeds this month going to the AFSP Suicide Prevention Walk.✨

https://www.gofundme.com/manage/writingthroughtheclouds