Reframing 'rejection'
My writing year didn't quite go to plan. But success looks different for everyone...
I’ll be honest with you. After the unexpected speed at which I got signed by a literary agent this time last year, I was very hopeful that I’d be signing a publishing contract in 2022. Sure, it might not be the world’s biggest book deal, but I thought I’d already got past the hard bit; I’d ‘proven’ that my writing was good enough to be taken seriously by industry experts. I assumed that some degree of ‘success’ would naturally follow.
In January, I excitedly tacked my fresh writing wall planner into place. The months ahead looked tantalisingly clear and I couldn’t wait to see what it would fill up with.
I’m looking at that very wall planner now, as the year draws to a close, and I can tell you that the only things on it are my own self-imposed writing deadlines and a cumulative record of rejection that mounted up with every passing month. Because, it turns out that it’s as hard as everyone says to get a book deal. Lots of editors liked my novel and said very lovely things about it. But, for many commercially-driven reasons, it didn’t sell.
I was sad and disappointed, of course. Devouring a slab of consolatory chocolate brownie from my husband with a spoon helped. But, really, there was only one thing I could do to soothe my mind: start writing another book. And here’s when the first unexpected thing of the year happened: the idea I’d been mulling over for months – and had been convinced would somehow form the basis of my second novel – grew less and less tangible the more I tried to plot it out, until it turned to dust completely. Argh!
Thankfully, quite suddenly, an idea for a completely new story appeared in my head almost fully formed. In fact, the concept was so clear and obvious to me I had to triple-check that it didn’t already exist. So, for the last seven months or so, I’ve been making friends with my new characters who’ve been revealing their stories to me while I explore my own ideas through a more speculative lens than before.
I’ve very nearly finished writing the first draft of that story, and even if nothing happens with it, I’ve learned so much about myself through the process of getting it all out of my head. And, as a parent who works while co-managing a family and household in this increasingly complex world, I’ve come to realise that every single word I manage to put down on the page isn’t just a success, it’s a bloody miracle.
And another miraculous thing happened in 2022: much like my unpublished manuscript, which wasn’t quite palatable enough for a mainstream market, I decided to stop editing myself to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. I embraced my weirdness more than ever. I let my offbeat ideas rise to the surface rather than attempt to push them down. And I began to express them unashamedly without laughing at myself in order to make people feel more comfortable.
And, when I started doing this, something unexpected happened. Some amazing, creative people began to listen. And, towards the end of this year, I began working with these people to help make creative work the world needs.
Just a couple of years ago, I genuinely felt like an imposter whenever I called myself a ‘writer’. Now, when people ask me what I do for a living, I can proudly and confidently tell them the truth. There’s no hesitation or embarrassment anymore. Because I couldn’t be any more of a writer if I tried.
And, with trying, comes failing.
As I’m constantly reminding my children when they make a mistake and get frustrated, every error – every so-called ‘failure’ – creates new connections, new pathways and new opportunities. Sometimes literally. Because, if I had got a book deal this year, I don’t think I’d have been quite so motivated to find a new job. And I wouldn’t have landed the role of my dreams.
After all, to succeed, we always have to be unsuccessful first.
Here’s to more collective failure – and more slow but determined progress – in 2023.
My favourite stories of the year
Book: Fault Lines by Emily Itame*.
This was the first book I read this year and it’s remained in poll position throughout. Set in contemporary Tokyo, the story explores the complex inner world of a Japanese stay-at-home-mum as she embarks on an affair. It’s funny, moving and beautifully written. And the depiction of the city the protagonist calls home is incredibly atmospheric and compelling.
Film: I Used To Be Famous, Netflix.
This film caught me totally off-guard earlier this year. I was expecting a cheesy comedy about an ex-boyband member forming a band with an autistic drummer. And, to a certain extent, that’s what I got. But the care, tenderness, and depth within this deceptively simple story won me over completely. It’s a pitch-perfect and tear-jerkingly moving tale of loss, family and letting go. I couldn’t love it more.
TV show: Hacks, Amazon Prime.
OMG I love this show so much. It has everything: bite-sized episodes you can squeeze in during a quick lunch break, characters you can’t help but root for, despite their glaring flaws, storylines that twist and turn without ever jumping the shark and the sharpest writing I can ever recall seeing on screen. Every writer must watch Hacks; it’s an absolute masterclass in character development and comedic storytelling.
Campaign: The Trussell Trust’s Emergency Appeal (please donate if you can).
This hard-hitting short film gets its message across so powerfully. Please watch it: it speaks for itself.
Haley,
Thanks for sharing last year with us. You're at least year ahead of me and at my age my deadline is non negotiable. So keep us (me) informed of your progress and it will benefit both of us.
Again, thanks for sharing.
Mike
Resonating with so much of this. Especially the bit about not editing yourself for mainstream consumption. It's been a big lesson for me this year too.