Jenn McKinlay: Recently, I gave
a book talk at a library. It was a packed house, standing room only, which is
not always the case for these talks. Stunning, I know. But on this particular
night, it was a mob. Probably, because I was speaking to a writer’s group.
These people meet once a month and are dedicated to the craft of writing with
the goal of getting published. In short, they were my people.
Now I’m always happy
to send the elevator down and share what I’ve learned on this thrilling, exhilarating,
but also frequently soul crushing journey into the land of publication. I try
to emphasize that the mechanics do not matter as much as the spark. In other
words: “I’m going to have to pass on your Fifty Shades of Girl with a Twilight Tattoo,
because you used the wrong font,” said no editor ever. Sometimes, I get
through.
But consistently at every talk I give, I meet people who have a great idea and have possibly
even whittled a few chapters out of their big block of a story, but they haven’t
submitted it because they are terrified of rejection. As if rejection by some
person they don’t know is more valid or important than how they feel about
their own work. Argh! It isn’t! So, even though they desperately want to get
published, they can not hit the send button on the query email. This boggles me.
I understand
that we all have different levels of coping, I do. But having spent the other
day hurling myself down a mountain (on skis) with a few hundred other folks, it
occurs to me that while we’re so willing to risk life and limb jumping out of
airplanes, falling hundreds of yards off a bridge with a rubber band strapped
to our ankles, or donning a foamed neoprene suit to swim with sharks, we
freak out and shut down if we think our feeling might get hurt. Last time I
checked you didn’t have to wear a cast or do physical therapy because you got a
thin envelope from your first college choice. Similarly, no funeral service has
ever been held for someone because the person they are crushing on likes their
best friend instead.
The same thing
goes for sharing our art. No one ever expired because their work was poorly received.
There will always be haters, especially nowadays when name calling, trolling,
etc. having become a pathetic pastime for some people. Rejections, one star
reviews on Amazon, nasty Goodreads posts, are all part of the job now. If you
want to be published, you have to take the bad with the good, but it shouldn’t
stop you from getting in the game. Feelings are not bones; they should not
require the same healing time!
When I was
starting out, I was rejected -- frequently. So, frequently, that I had a recovery
routine. I would be sad for a few hours and then I’d get irritated, and then I’d
tap into my apparently deep well of I’ll-show-you. I used the rejection to push
myself just like I did when I was skiing the other day. It had been more than a
decade since I’d skied and I was seriously trepidatious, as the possibility of
injury was high, but I didn’t give in to it and sit in the lodge sipping cocoa.
I put the skis on and hit the slopes. I am so glad I did! It felt great to fly
down the mountain again, and I’m pleased to report that I didn’t fall – not once!
I genuinely
believe that the only things we regret in life are the chances we don’t take. How about you,
Reds and readers, what chances have you taken that were worth the risk?
I think that stepping into the unknown, taking that risk, is always a difficult decision, even it it's to accomplish something vitally important to you. Perhaps it takes a special kind of courage to take those risks . . . .
ReplyDeleteWe once moved our entire family clear across the country so that I could take on a new job. We agreed; it seemed like a perfect fit. It put me in the middle of a program that was very important to me and it was something I dearly wanted to do. Undoubtedly, it was worth the risk; still, there are times that I wonder if I'd have accepted the position if I'd known how it would all turn out . . . .
Gosh, Joan: That's a bit of a cliffhanger ending to your comment. Can you tell us more? Like, how did it all turn out?
DeleteI'm dying to know too Joan!
DeleteAfter some ten years, the company downsized and eliminated my position without warning. That I can live with, but virtually every program we built during that time almost instantly vanished, and that is much, much harder to accept . . . .
DeleteOh, yes, I see. It's never good when the work we've done is erased through corporate decisions. Sorry that was your experience, Joan.
DeleteUgh, that was a cliff hanger and a twist at the end - do you think you would have been happier not taking the position?
DeleteI'm not certain, Jenn, but I think I probably would have done it, anyway . . . we developed good education programs and achieved a great deal during those years, so that was a positive accomplishment in spite of the ultimate outcome . . . .
DeleteThat is good to hear, Joan. I’m glad you felt an achievement during those years.
DeleteI had a rejection routine like that too Jenn, but maybe it took me longer to recover LOL! I think there must be quite a range of "thick skin-ness" and maybe some of that is due to how you were raised and some of it is in your DNA...
ReplyDeleteMy stubborn streak is pretty wide and it is pretty hard to hurt my feelings. Maybe because I’m six feet tall, I am used to people feeling like they can critique me. I have seriously had people tell me “You are too tall” my entire life. What does that even mean?
DeleteNo reward without some measure of risk, say I: About 14 years ago, my corporate job was terminated and I found myself out of work. I had to reinvent myself pronto, as I was the main earner in my family. I pursued a master's degree, which was the easy part of the reinvention; the harder part was hanging out my own shingle as a writer/editor and hunting down contracts in the corporate and non-profit sectors. Rejection was routine; few were committed to paying a living wage for decent writing. But I persevered and made it - and even came to enjoy the hunt for new clients and contracts. Today, I bring all that learning into my college teaching and, from this less risky vantage point, I don't regret a minute of the fear and angst of rejection as a (really) small business owner. It has helped shape who I have become.
ReplyDeleteOMG - “Rejection was routine; few were committed to paying a living wage for decent writing.” You just described the entire writing process in one glorious sentence :) I am delighted it worked out for you, Amanda!
DeleteWow, Amanda! That's impressive! I imagine a lot of people would have found a new corporate home, but nothing ventured, nothing gained!
DeleteYears ago I got my first real job after earning a PhD. I happened to learn how severely overpaid I was in comparison to a younger male colleague with no PhD. I had two reactions: if that was all the company thought of me, then I wasn't going to work very hard. Or, I'd show them. I chose the anger-based latter, and they nearly doubled my salary within two months. And when I was starting to write novels, several people warned me how hard it was to get published. I responded, "Somebody's going to get published, and it might as well be me." So yeah, a little said, a bit of anger, and a lot of push does the trick.
ReplyDeleteLove it!
DeleteGood for you, Edith! I’m delighted that you fought for your worth. It is hard to get published but so worth it when you hold your book in your hand!
DeleteMy life has been a series of leaps into the unknown. Sometimes I fly and sometimes it's been a hard landing. But the boys have seen that you just keep going--you make that next leap when it comes your way--because you never know to whom or to what it may lead you. They're young men now--starting to feel their way into their own next leaps--and I can feel the wings on my back stirring again.
ReplyDeleteYou're a great role model to your children, Flora. Seeing their mother take a calculated risk is good for kids, and shows them it's very often worthwhile to step out of one's comfort zone.
DeleteThank you, Karen. I'm their auntie, not their 'mom', but it sure feels the same!
DeleteYes, my boys have become calculated risk takers, too. It’s thrilling to watch!
DeleteI'm not a huge risk-taker. I have thought occasionally about a what-if sort of memoir that looks at what might have happened had I responded differently in various situations throughout my life. I'm trying these days to be a little less cautious. Realizing how little I'm risking makes it a little easier. I'm taking some courage from reading your stories and thoughts today.
ReplyDeleteYay! Good for you, Jim. It’s never fun to have our feelings hurt but they really do mend and if you succeed, it’s so worth it!
DeleteIt seems like you've taken various risks this year, Jim: having surgery, moving and downsizing. It takes energy to make changes rather than stick with the status quo. I wonder what you might do next...;)
DeleteThinking about risk taking, and how, for me, it is much more frightening to take a chance on rejection of any kind that to contemplate a physical risk. I don't know how those of you who stood in that long rejection line, until you finally got published, didn't run screamng out of the room.
ReplyDeleteThe closest thing I can imagine is job interview anxiety, but I got an offer every time, so that doesn't even compare.
And the older I get, the less intrepid I get. Kudos to those who kept on keeping on.
Ann, there are times I did run screaming but I always doubled back. Might need to write a post about masochism :)
DeleteI know you are right, Jenn, and I gave up too soon. This was years ago, before email, before computers, and I certainly wasn't a very good typist. I knew my book was good so I sent out query letters, one after the other. After the fifth rejection I gave up. This was even after I had heard Madeleine L'Engle tell how she had been rejected 25 times before someone accepted "Wrinkle in Time". I did keep writing however, mostly for my own enjoyment.
ReplyDeleteJudi - I’m glad you kept writing even if only for yourself. I once read that Dr. Seuss was rejected 63 times. I had to sit down on that one. My first book was rejected seven times before it sold. Every one hurt but the acceptance made it worth it!
DeleteI once heard a quote, something to do with taking the leap into the unknown: it's possible you'll learn to fly.
ReplyDeleteAnd very often that's been the case with me. Friends encouraged me to go into the insurance business, after I'd been languishing in the poorly paid retail field for some time. Even though I was fairly shy, I had to put myself forward, make cold calls to perfect strangers, and ask for sales. My mentor gave me a goal of making 100 calls a week, plus ten in-person calls. It was unbelievably hard, but as long as the person on the phone never actually said the word, "No" I kept going. Eventually, I was not only the top producer in our office, but went through all the chairs in two of the local professional organizations, one for women, and the other for all the health underwriters in our area.
After that experience over nine years, getting rejected from publishers was nothing.
This comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteKaren: I think you might be referring to this quote by Erin Hanson --
Delete"There is freedom waiting for you / On the breezes of the sky / And you ask, 'What if I fall?' / Oh but my darling / What if you fly?"
I love it, and put it on my vision board for this year.
Thank you, Amanda! I think that's the one I was thinking of.
DeleteThere's also this one: Faith is knowing one of two things will happen: there will be something solid to stand on, or you will be taught to fly.
I've found this to be true throughout my life.
Those are brilliant! I’m saving both of them. Thank you!
Delete"Sometimes you just have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down." - Kobi Yamada
DeleteLove both those quotes! And, Amanda, I'm curious about your vision board.
DeleteIt took me years to share my writing with anyone. Because I was afraid they'd tell me "honey, you just don't have it" and writing was something I really enjoyed. I didn't WANT to be told I didn't have "it," whatever "it" is.
ReplyDeleteFortunately, when I screwed up the courage to share, I picked people who were willing to both encourage me and help me improve.
Mary/Liz
Very wise. I waited years, too, because when I took the leap I wanted to be sure I was ready.
DeleteGorgeous pix, Jenn! You're making me miss Sugarloaf where I learned to ski at the age of 55. Yes, risk taking is my middle name.
ReplyDeleteMary, I agree, the hardest thing I ever did was sharing my writing. It was such a personal act. Somewhere I read that the only things you will ever regret are the things you never did. Whenever I need to reach into the courage box, that's the phrase I pull out.
Wow! Fantastic, Kait! Sugarloaf is Maine? I learned in Killington, VT when I was a teen - took me all day to learn not to fall when getting off the lift! LOL!
DeleteWhen I was 30 I took a job in Scotland and moved there. I knew no one on a whole continent which fascinated me. I will say though that the risk wasn't huge because I had a job to go to and come back to but it was a personal risk. I also do community theatre and I've not been offered roles more than I got roles (much worse now that I'm much older). I have my pity party and then move on. I don't love rejection but I'm working hard on not making it destroy my life or what I do. I'm changing up what I do in theatre now to learning how to direct by signing on in many volunteer capacities. Right now I'm stage managing Proof and learning a lot. Philosophy mode: I'm 62. If I'm not proactive about my life then who will be? Philosophy mode off.
ReplyDeletePam - good for you! Rejection is hard - so very hard- but as I’ve gotten older I have come to realize there are so many factors in play that’s it’s not personal even though it feels like it. I also know that the harder I work the luckier I get.
DeleteJust saying yes yes yes yes yes in every way. Fear is such an obstacle--and we create it on our own. It's IMAGINARY! IMAGINARY! So imagine it away. Thank you for this, darling Jenn.
ReplyDeleteSo true, hank! So much of what we fear is bogus but we don't know it until we push past it.
DeleteI have on my bulletin board: "What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"
ReplyDeleteLove it!
DeleteGreat post, Jenn! Rejection is part of life. I see rejection as learning opportunities. I have taken so many risks. LOL. I travelled to Europe on my own. I did my homework and studied the maps before traveling. I got my driver's license late in life and I know it is a risk out there with people texting or talking on their mobile phones. These days it is a big risk to go out there.
ReplyDeleteDiana
Good for you, Diana!
Deletethank you, Jenn!
DeleteJenn, well said. Or as Billy Joel put it: << They never told you the price that you'd pay, For things that you might have done>> (Sorry to post so late. I just saw this. Sometimes JRW comes to me, sometimes I have to go find it)
ReplyDeleteWhile I agree with you since I'm a rather practical person, I sometimes have to remind myself that not everyone thinks and feels the way I do. Emotional scars tend to cut deeper and take longer to heal than physical ones. And what we know logically doesn't always match what we feel emotionally.
ReplyDeleteI see this with friends in bad relationships. I see this with friends stuck in query and/or submission Hell. I see this with friends who have dreams they're too afraid to try for. A rejection for me means, "Boo that sucks, but writing is subjective, so on to the next one." A rejection for them means, "Give up. It'll never happen. You're not good enough. Why did you even think you could do this?" It's frustrating, but I think it's important to know what kind of person you're dealing with before writing it off as, "Well I was able to do it. Why can't you?" Which is what I used to do in the past.