So another year, another set of rejections. I've been logging them for three years now. For those unfamiliar, I do the 'Rejection Pot' idea, where I put a bit of money aside for every rejection and spend it at the end of the year. I always start with high hopes of logging them on a spreadsheet, but invariably, more little ones slip by me, so I end up with a rough idea based on the money in the pot.
It's an inexact science- some will just ghost you, so it's a Shrodinger's rejection or a tree in a forest…is it real if you don't see the words? Similarly, some folks prefer to know when roughly something will be rejected…frankly, I have enough anxiety in life without adding that to it, so I just let them roll in as and when. Yesterday I got one. Will it be the last of 2022? Or will someone get in under the wire? Who knows. Anyway, the headcount is about 20 this year.
The split is a bit of a mishmash. There are a few hail-Mary submissions in play competitions, but not many, as I've not written anything new for a couple of years. I kicked about a few non-fiction book ideas to a few places. There's the usual array of writing schemes and mentoring programs. This year's biggest chunk was my first attempt at shopping a novel around publishers and agents.
So what were the good, bad, and ugly of this year? Well, the good was a couple of wins (I've saved those for the end) or a couple of partial wins, as I like to call them. Partial wins are where you might not 'win' but get feedback. I've had a handful of really nice feedback this year, which is always good at keeping you going. Sometimes it's enough in a sea of 'nah'. The bad? The ones that clearly didn't get read. I get it; submissions to everything far outweigh the time available. But we can tell, we always can when it was barely read. And that sucks because even if we know it's not about us, we still put our whole selves into something that didn't even get read. The ugly…well. There's the agent that said, 'gay stuff is too niche and doesn't make any money' my man, firstly, you homophobic prick. Secondly, heard of the pink pound? Have you seen the gay section of many bookshops? But also mainly the homophobic prick thing. Then there's the agent who equally gave me some very thinly veiled homophobic rejection. Or the two who got my name wrong in the rejection (in part, I have sympathy that can happen to anyone, but we get such shit as writers if we make a tiny mistake that way, it goes in the ugly pile).
What were the ones that hurt this year? I'll be honest, not a lot. And I'll take that win. Most of them felt like an impersonal stab in the dark, and you know what? It's a lottery as much as it is about skill for most of these things. Right time, right place, the right title, a multitude of things. So mostly, it's ok.
But these rejection blogs have always been about honesty. Does it hurt? Does it give me insecurities abound that my novel hasn't yet got much of a bite? Of course. One thing got under my skin: a newsletter from a well-known purveyor of writing courses, telling me that if my novel had been rejected by x number of places, it was time to put it in the bin and write a better one. Now in the cold light of day, I know said newsletter is trying to sell me their writing courses. I know, too, that I'm new to pitching in this field; it's taken me years to get bites in theatre writing, it's taken me many more tries to get my plays produced, etc., etc. But every time a rejection came in after that, it was all I could hear.
So where am I with my yes, rejected, but not beaten yet novel (s). I realised I'm not writing a classic spy thriller or beach romance. I'm not writing a mainstream YA gay novel or a 'popular with straight audeinces' gay romance. It's a fairly niche queer book about grief. It's a book about asexual neurodiverse characters. It's a dark-humoured look at all those. That's not going to be for everybody. It's not as my friend the agent decried, necessarily a big money spinner. But it's the story I needed to write, and it's a good one.
The writing is good and you know what I still believe in these characters and the fact they are the characters and story that someone, several someones, need to read. So we carry on. We live in hope with some more submissions, but failing that…this might be the story that makes me take matters into my own hands and self-publish it. That shouldn't be seen as a last resort or an indication of rejection. It should be seen as writers taking control, just like I control what I get to write here rather than waiting for the perfect idea to pitch to an editor. Self-publishing isn't always the result of rejection, a reaction to it, but a realisation of the space you need to take up for yourself instead. If anything, rejection made me believe in this story harder.
What I also want to include in this is job rejections. While I decided in 2020 not to include job rejections in the 'pot' while actively looking for work, it's still important. (They aren't included because, frankly, in the 2020-2022 pandemic job search, I'd have no money to put into it). I applied for a lot of jobs this year between January and June. Some I wanted, some I got, and some I didn't want but felt I should go for. Alongside this, I hustled for various freelance work; some I got, some I didn't some I got, and regretted it.
I walked away from two jobs this year (four if we count, two awful freelance projects I noped out of asap). One job logistically, I couldn't work with other jobs, but otherwise loved it. Another I cried from day one until the day I thankfully could quit. There's a lot of stigma around quitting jobs if you haven't got the 'ideal' thing lined up…but sometimes, you have to reject a job.
This also comes off the back of spending last Christmas a ball of anxiety over whether to take a job that was offered. Firstly, TLDR: if it causes you anxiety debating taking it, don't take it. But that job wasn't one I applied for (cough, internal candidate, cough), and what they wanted me wasn't what I applied for. It's hard to reject a paid opportunity when you're already scrambling for work. But sometimes it's the right thing.
I also started rejecting things that I didn't have time for or more accurately, didn't serve me in 2022. That started with dialing back my theatre reviewing (I am going back to it in 2023 which I'm excited for and also shows that sometimes saying no now serves you in the long run). I said no to, or didn't apply to things that while I 'should' that I didn't have space for or love for enough to find the space. I said thanks but no thanks to applying to things that while good on paper would be miserable in person. I also managed to say no to things that would be great, but I knew I didn't have the capacity or was too burnt out to do them properly. None of that is easy when you've got a decade or more of 'must do all the things' and 'you've got to hustle to be part of it' or 'you're falling behind' to contend with.
So that's the good, the bad, and the ugly…but there's the feeling that I actually… did enough? Or more accurately…that I didn't do enough. I talked a bit about that in this blog. But the trouble with logging the rejections is that also you can feel like you aren't putting enough work in or out there. Obviously, much of this comes from comparison, and in the arts and academia, the two areas I end up surrounded with, it's impossible not to compare. With academics I look at folks churning out journal articles or conference papers, talking about how much work they have to do, how many deadlines or how 'thrilled to share' they are and I feel like a failure. No matter how much I remind myself that they're in different fields (journals for a start not as much a thing in my area) or that actually its part of their job to do it… it still brings feelings of not trying hard enough. For the arts as well there's always some…well let's say it, some wanker, who always has something to brag about. And as much as we remind ourselves they're a minority, most of us have a handful of those wins in a good year, still the wankers are always the loudest right?
But the point of these rejection reflections is that honesty, and in all honesty, I've felt like I've not been doing enough this year. Not submitting enough. Not 'out there' enough. To some degree I just didn't have the fight in me. I'm exhausted and burned out and honestly a little lost. I often find it hard to pick myself up for whatever the next fight might be…so many submissions or 'opportunties for rejection' just passed me by. Maybe like the above that was a healthy thing. Maybe it's not about failing to do the thing, but waiting until it is right.
To quote Aaron Burr 'I'm not standing still I am lying in wait.'
That song has long been my mantra. I used to listen to it every day while driving to Pontypridd for the worst job I ever had (Ponty isn't that significant, it just means if you know you know). I used it to remind myself that while it feels like a pause, we're all just waiting for the right opportunity. The year after that Angels in America returned, and life shifted again. So maybe sometimes you do have to 'wait for it'. This year felt like a 'wait for it' year.
As my man Burr also says 'I am the one thing in life I can control.' and that's what I spent this year doing. Working hard, even if all of it isn't visible yet. But also, if I can be a bit wanky, healing a bit. A lot happened this year, most of it not directly relevant here. But I spent the last six months reminding myself that the job I'm in now is a chance to heal; to heal from hustling for two years solid in the worst conditions imaginable, a chance to heal from toxic workplaces and the grind of unemployment. A chance to catch my breath while working a nice job, and let myself catch up to two years of flat-out work behind the scenes.
It's also been a year of doing the work. It might sound obvious but sometimes you have to do the work to have the work. Sometimes that's sort of in sync- there's stuff you're submitting away while you work on new stuff. Sometimes you're working on the stuff you're committed to, or that you need to do to submit.
Working on the stuff you're committed to reminds you that there weren't rejections. This year I was working on four books, all under contract. One I polished for publication (which came out in October), one I polished then unfortunately got pushed/delayed, and two more I wrote across the tail end of last year and this. That's a lot of work, around paid work in isteslf and each represents a 'yes' previously. At the same time, I finished writing a novel I'd started at the end of last year. Then eventually split it into two (maybe three), polished part one, and drafted 2 and 3. That is 'do the stuff in order to have stuff' mode. Finally I made a tiny start on a new play, at last, and I plan to draft that in the new year (Under a great scheme called 'Write a Play January with London Playwrights). So by this time next year I may have a play and two (maybe three) novels to submit. You have to do the work to have the work.
What were the 'yeses' then? There were a few smaller ones, things like winning a bit of feedback or similar which was great.
I got my first ever 'yes' for a writing scheme application. These have always left me particularly dejected as rejections- the idea you're not even good enough to do something to teach you to be better. But this year, with the Sherman Theatre and Literature Wales I was picked for a writing retreat. And that meant the world; the idea of being invested in, and seen as worthy of support is sometimes more important than the yeses for work.
I also got a 'yes' for a new non-fiction book (which I can properly announce when I get the contract) and an 'almost-yes' with a 'do some revisions and there's a good chance' on another. That's a big project, most of my capacity for the next year, with the potential for more to follow it.
What I said above, too, about the 'time to do', there's also acknowledging that having done…you have to get it out there for writers promoting a book, play, or whatever. Doing the associated promotion and getting it out there is also part guaranteeing the next 'yes'. Unfortunately, proving your worth with sales and visibility is all part of the game. So there's the doing, the yes, and the making sure people see the things you got a yes for to fuel the next. It's never-ending but also a balancing act.
So was this, as Gen Z might say, a 'flop era' in submissions and rejections? Maybe. I submitted less or as wide as I might have. I certainly didn't get a lot of yeses. I got a lot of rejections. But I still have a big chunk of exciting work for next year. I still have things to move forward with.
Also, I have things I enjoy. I'm aware I've talked a lot about finding joy in writing in these blogs, but it's important. I don't expect to get paid for what I do; anything I manage to get is a bonus. Having come from theatre all these years, that's a given by now. But also on that note, I'm not an academic, with a salary underpinning the expectations on what I write, but also supporting it financially. So if I'm doing this for relatively little financial rewards, I'd better be enjoying it. So that's how I'm picking the non-fiction projects I pitch. Because also if they're taking all my time, they should be enjoyable. But also, I can't write about things I don't love.
So that’s another year in rejections (of course now I’ve written it they’ll sneak some in under the wire). A mixed bag, a strange sort of year in many ways. But the point of the rejections is to remind myself I’m still trying; if I’m getting rejected I’m still trying.
Such a great post Emily. Great to hear your reflections. And love the focus on rejections. Love your work x
Congratulations on the yeses and almost yeses. But more importantly congratulations on shifting outbid do all the things mode. Finding the line between doing too much and not doing enough takes some experimentation. The fact that you are attempting to figure this out is a win. Also that you are focusing on joy. Wishing you good things in 2023.