Thinking Critically About Rejection
And maybe finding my value doesn't depend on said rejection.
Last letter I mentioned that I had sent my very first agent query for my novel. Only 5 days later, I received my first rejection. Wooo!
I have nearly gotten a new tattoo or septum piercing pretty much every day since. I settled on cutting my hair and ordering clip-in septum jewelry instead. And then I sent out two more queries.
I’m taking the whole query letter game slow, because I want to make it as painful as possible try to learn as much as I can from the feedback I receive. That means 1. taking notes about the rejections (or manuscript requests!) and 2. thinking critically about any information that I get in the process.
Because thinking critically is notoriously hard when you’re feeling threatened—and any possible hint of rejection makes me feel threatened—the whole process is a lesson in calming my nervous system.
But back to the data: it’s all subjective, but there are signals that I can use to help me improve my chances of actually getting an offer. For example, if the query form asks for just the short synopsis and 10 pages, and I keep getting rejected on that, maybe I need to work on those two items. But if I get a request for more pages or the full manuscript, I know I’m doing something right and can start querying agents that feel more out of my reach.
To be honest, all agents feel out of my reach right now, but I’m hopeful. And for what feels like the first time in a long time, I’m really proud of the work I’ve done on this project. It’s not for money (although that would be nice) and it’s not for someone else’s shareholder value. That’s incredibly empowering.
A good friend and former colleague once told me her biggest take-away from a meeting with a female executive was that the exec told her she needed to remember:
“Your own value is not dependent on what other people think of you, how well you perform at your job, or really any other outside factor.”
When she told me this three or so years ago, I did not believe it. Or I believed that it’s something that can be true for other people, but that I had never experienced it.
At the time, I defined my own value by whatever little scraps someone else gave me. I did great work because I enjoyed what I did and also because I thought that when you do good work, you’re supposed to be rewarded for it.
Whoever says Millennials are the “everyone gets a trophy” generation got it way wrong. We were taught that if you work hard and try really hard, then you get a trophy. I’m not the only one saying it, but working hard in America doesn’t get you a trophy. It doesn’t even get you a living wage sometimes. If you’re lucky, you might get a “good job” once in a while, but that’s usually the bread on a shit sandwich.1
All of that to say that it took freelancing for 18 months, co-founding a business, and finishing a novel to make me feel like I have value.
Or maybe it’s perimenopause and my increasing intolerance for bullshit.
Dress-related aside
Actual conversation I just had with myself:
“Meeting starts in 3 minutes. Sweater too hot. Must get shirt to cover my shoulders because this dress has 1” straps.”
walks into closet
“which one of these would work and still feel cool enough for this hot flash? Hold on, I work for myself. I decide whether I can show my shoulders. And if the guy I’m meeting with in Teams feels weird about my shoulders, he can deal with it.”
walks right out of closet.
Does this make me a card-carrying member of the We Do Not Care Club? Maybe. But I don’t think I need a card.
Recommended Reading
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Orbital by Samatha Harvey
This book won the Booker Prize, and boy did it deserve it. Not too much actually happens in this novel, but golly was it beautiful. The language felt like poetry. It made me stop and think about the beauty of the earth and our existence. It’s a fairly short book, but lovely all the same.
I’m in the middle of another book and I DNF2 another one since the last time we spoke, so I have exhausted the books that I will actually recommend to you.
But if you want to kvetch about the ending of Onyx Storm3, catch me over on notes.
For those wondering, a shit sandwich is when you compliment someone, follow it with a criticism or “constructive feedback” and then complete the sandwich with another compliment. This is also known as the compliment sandwich or the feedback sandwich. Just like a vacuum, whatever you call it, it sucks.
Did not finish
Yep, another footnote. To say that I don’t NOT recommend Onyx Storm, but also, Rebecca Yarros doesn’t need my help to sell books.