I got another rejection today. I know that rejections are an inevitable part of being an aspiring writer. There are many reasons a piece can be rejected, and it's a bit foolish to take them too personally. There's no way around them, and the old notion that those who succeed are those who don't give up is certainly true. However, that doesn't mean that it isn't frustrating when work is rejected.
I'm willing to admit that not everything I've written is amazing. In fact, most of what I've written is not that good. Part of the learning process is improving and being able to look back somewhat more objectively on past work and see where it is flawed. I think that despite writing seriously for the past several years, I have up to now produced only a small handful of work that is good and hundreds of pages of work that isn't especially good. But that small handful of good work is genuinely good. I swear it is. So it's frustrating when I continue to send it out into the world in the hopes that some editor out there will agree with me that it's good and have it keep boomeranging back.
Sure, it's nice to get the handwritten notes or personal e-mails telling me that, while my writing is good, this piece wasn't a match for that journal. Those notes buoy my spirits. But come on already, world. Please, please, please, with sugar on top, can I get one of my stories accepted?
Part of the struggle, I think, comes from the pure subjectivity of literary writing. Unlike genres, which have certain conventions, literary stories can be about pretty much anything and have almost anything happen or not. Characters might grow and change or they might not. Epiphanies may occur or they may not. One reader will say that a character has to change or else why bother reading the story. Another will say that it's a cliché to have a character change, and such a convention is outdated and unrealistic. Some editors will want work that has little plot but experiments wildly with form. Other editors will want traditional forms but plots that are unlike what has been seen before.
I've been reading literary stories for years, picking up journals and collections to see what is being published. Most of what I see I don't particularly care for. Much of it is simply boring because not much happens, or what does happen is so minimal that it's left mostly up to the individual reader to figure out why the events of the story have any significance. But I will admit that the stories are well written from a basic craft standpoint. The language is solid. The prose works effectively. Sentences and paragraphs construct a living dream. But beyond that, there are no real standards as far as I can tell. There doesn't have to be anything in particular that a story does. There doesn't have to be a catharsis or a moral lesson or a dramatic climax or a commentary on society or an interesting twist or a character that represents reality.
Actually, let me pause a bit on that last point. I think that one might be the real kicker. I think that the subjective nature of fiction lies largely in whether or not an individual reader connects with the characters and ideas, and creating a piece that connects with an individual reader or editor at any particular magazine seems to me to be largely up to chance. Experts advise new writers to read all the journals (and there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of them) to get a sense of what they publish. From what I've seen, there seems to be no consistent vision or style for individual journals beyond the subjective tastes of the editors who happen to be there at the time; so, honestly, I don't see that reading all the journals accomplishes much. At least I've never been able to detect any real standards that differentiate one journal from the next. And as far as creating characters that will resonate with an individual reader goes, again, I think it's pure luck. I remember having wildly divergent views from people in my workshop classes. For instance, one particular story once struck me as being uninteresting in part because a character seemed so unrealistic, so irrational, that I suspected that the character must be insane, and I didn't understand the appeal of reading about insane characters if they are presented as if they are ordinary; yet others in the class loved the story, feeling that it accurately depicted the world as they knew it. I can think of other similar situations where viewpoints on stories simply diverged. And these were well written stories as far as the basic issues of craft are concerned. The language was strong. The situations were explained and the plot moved from point to point and so forth. But if we can't agree on what a realistic person is like, we simply aren't going to agree on whether the story is appealing or not.
So if it is indeed the case, as I believe it is, that having a story accepted is largely a matter of chance, of sending it to the right place at the right time where the right person happens to somehow find the characters and situation relatable and interesting, then is there ever any end to the frustration? I think it comes down to perseverance, I guess. The old saws are true: one must stick with it; not give up; try, try again. Once a writer has a reputation, I think editors start to ignore the issue of whether or not they personally find the piece appealing because it has already been established that the writer is good. In fact, journals will seek out established writers to send them pieces, and I'm fairly certain that a journal won't solicit a story from a well known writer and then reject it because the editor doesn't care for it. But getting established, having those first few people acknowledge that one is good is a frustrating endeavor.
A final note: Maybe this rejection today is hitting me harder than many do simply because of when it arrived. I'm a bit stressed at the moment because I have stacks of papers to grade this weekend; I have to work at my retail job tomorrow, which eats into my grading time; and the final weeks of the semester are going to be incredibly busy. And when I get stressed, I tend to get a bit depressed. I feel a bit frustrated in general with my life at the moment. I'm in my thirties without a full time job. My plan B is to teach, and even that isn't fully working out since I can't actually land a full time position, and it's often frustrating because many of my students don't care or don't try or really should not be pursuing a college education in the first place. And the dream I've been pursuing for years continues to elude me. It might be easier if I had some of the other things in my life that make life enjoyable for many people, like fulfilling relationships, but I don't. Apart from my immediate family, my only real friendships are with people I see in person only every few years because they live thousands of miles away. I feel like my entire life, my identity, is wrapped up in my dream to become a writer, and the reality is that that dream may never come true. And there isn't anything else in my life that makes me want to keep going day to day. Each day I sustain the hope that maybe today will be the day that I get that big acceptance. I check my e-mail obsessively in case a journal has sent me a notice that they'd like to publish me. So it's tough when that dream keeps getting dashed.
7 comments:
I just got a rejection that really bothered me, too. As hardened as we may become to rejections there are always times where they really hit us hard. I think you're right that it's all about perseverence, and I would add that you ARE a writer; it isn't publication that makes a person a writer. In my opinion, anyway.
That's a good point. I think it is useful to think, "I am a writer" rather than "I want to become a writer." Sometimes I like to remember good ol' Vincent Van Gogh, who sold only one painting in his whole life. But then again, he had the advantage of not needing to make a living by establishing himself enough as a painter that he could land a good job teaching painting since he was financially supported by his brother.
That reminds me. In the new Malcolm Gladwell book, What the Dog Saw, Gladwell writes in one section about the different kinds of "geniuses." We tend to think of genius or talent or what have you in terms of the precocious genius, as ability that simply bursts out of someone from a young age, like Mozart. But Gladwell discusses the older genius, the person who works hard for years and slaves away in order to achieve greatness.
Specifically, Gladwell compares Jonathan Safran Foer, who wrote Everything is Illuminated at like age nineteen or something, with Ben Fountain, whose book Brief Encounters with Che Guevara was the result of years and years spent sitting writing at his kitchen table. It was interesting and inspiring to think about how one doesn't have to be the child wonder to be good, but it was also sort of depressing because Gladwell concludes that the big common factor in the case of people who achieve greatness after years of working at it is that they have some benefactor in their lives who helps them out. Fountain had a wife who worked and supported him while he sat home and wrote. And Gladwell gives other similar examples. It seems that the precocious talent can emerge nearly fully formed in youth, but the cultivated talent has to indeed be cultivated through the help of others. And I find that thought a bit depressing since I neither have a wealthy spouse or generous, wealthy friend nor do I expect to acquire one in the future.
You can find a wealthy spouse. Doesn't seem like it should be too much trouble. That should be an option on those internet dating sites. "Please check all that apply. I am here to find: Love, companionship, and/or financial support while I work on becoming a literary genius." But I don't know if I believe Gladwell's assessment. I feel like I've heard tons of writer success stories where the writer spent years slaving away at some crappy job, living in a hovel and almost starving to death, but they kept at it and eventually made it. I always think about Stephen King working in laundry and how he would come home exhausted but still stay up all night writing.
1. Stephen King could still probably be considered in the precocious camp. Wasn't he only in his mid-twenties when he published Carrie?
2. I think I have heard of a dating site that actually is kind of like that, but I think it was only for women looking for rich men. Sugardaddy.com or something.
3. Yes, you're right that it is oversimplifying to buy too much into Gladwell's theory. I'm sure it's possible for the loner to make something of himself. I hope so, anyway.
If it makes you feel better, a lot of 30-somethings I know are in similar boats as you, and they're all creative types too. Graphic designers, artists, musicians, writers, etc. I do know some people--some even in their 20s--who are financially secure and successful. But...they're boring. Not a creative bone in their bodies. I think I'd rather be a struggling creative soul than a successful boring one. And I'm pretty sure that everyone, successful or not, goes through depressed periods. Especially some of the successful ones. I mean, company CEOs? Yeah they have the bucks, but they have to do so much and deal with so much crap that sometimes I wonder why they don't just quit and do something less stressful. Materialism is overrated, I say. But then I'm still an undergrad and will probably experience/feel similarly as you in ten years. Who's to say? Good luck though on your writing, and just remember your acceptances and how good they made you feel.
I'll leave you with a quote from George R.R. Martin: "Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?" Ponder that one.
Plus, there's the added factor that many of us who have the creative spark or desire for that kind of expression also have a strong tendency to be depressed. I spent the bulk of my twenties struggling with severe depression, so, really, when I hit a minor patch here and there, I should just remain grateful that it's not a daily struggle like it once was. And, yeah, at least this kind of life isn't boring.
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