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?
