What does not kill me makes me stronger.
Two years ago, the manuscript of what was to be "Everyday Matters" was lying in a drawer. At the time, it was pretty much like the book that's in stores today but it was called simply "A New York Diary".
In late January, 2002, I had lunch with a friend who had just published a monograph of his work. He encouraged me to pick a list of publishers who had made books I liked and just send out my manuscript. "Invest a hundred bucks in copies and stamps and see if anything happens," he urged.
So I made a list of thirty publishers and over the next few weeks, filled the mail with manilla envelopes. It took a year for twenty six of them to get around to sending me rejection letters (I'm still waiting on the last four).
This morning, inspires by my 24 hours of nausea, this morning I took out the file of letters and present some edited selections from the nicer ones:
Although, my efforts may seem futile they weren't. I believe by making the effort, I set wheels in motion that through twists and turns caused my life to change, books to come out, this dialogue with you to happen.
Destiny is hard to seize. It's impossible to control every step you will take. But by doing, by making, by generating energy, you cause things to happen.
These letters hurt me when they arrived. But they didn't stop me. Though I felt like I was facing an endless monolithic wall, I finally found a toe hold and climbed into the Promised Land (a scary place where feelings of rejection continue to abound. More on that some other time). It's not just because I am brilliant and devilishly handsome. I think it's primarily because I kept beavering on.
Now... what do you have in a drawer?
A record of my exploration into all aspects of drawing, illustrated journaling, creativity, and the inspiring aspects of art. By the author of "Everyday Matters," "The Creative License", and "An Illustrated Life" and other books.
Comments
For a couple of years I have been trying to get my textile designs bought, taken on as a line of fabrics, seen! Man, is it tough! I have been on shut down for a little while, my inner child is hiding, but I know that I must trudge onward. Thank you for this post! I don't save my rejections, i think it is quite brave of you.
Posted by: Melly | February 8, 2004 11:01 AM
Thank you for publishing these! I'm always saying that rejection is not necessarily about the artist, but more likely reflects some editor's (teacher's, gallery owner's) own issues and baggage. You have demonstrated the point with grace and humor! Also the power of perseverance!
p.s. I hope that you are planning to publish these pages as a book some day. It would be lovely to have this to reflect on at night under the covers, on the beach, in the mountains on a campout....
Posted by: Serena Fenton | February 8, 2004 11:45 AM
its inspiring to see that in spite of the rejections you managed to get every day matters published (i really enjoyed it by the way).
Posted by: azura | February 8, 2004 12:36 PM
Thanks for sharing your rejections with us. Three years ago I started sending some of my artwork to my favorite paper arts magazine. I'm often surprised by what they reject and sometimes even more by what they choose. Now I just send it off with a "won't it be fun to see what happens" and celebrate if it gets published. It's not like putting a whole book out there but it still takes some courage to put yourself up for scrutiny.
Posted by: meredith | February 8, 2004 02:06 PM
Thanks for "beavering on"...it means the rest of us finally got to enjoy your book.
My drawer is predominantly full of socks that do not match...(I wonder if I did a photographic essay of those I could get it published? Hey, if a company will publish "Gingerbread for all seasons" there's hope for any subject matter!)
Posted by: PunkClown | February 8, 2004 02:33 PM
My Grandpa use to say'walk softly and carry a big stick.' Or was that Rosevelt? Any way, you are great! We are glade you keep on keeping on.
Posted by: Joe | February 8, 2004 03:00 PM
this was very interesting. and, good to know. sometimes i think about the hundreds and hundreds of rejections i will have to take after i finish my degree and will try to get work as an illustrator.
it is somewhat comforted that even the most brilliant people go through this.
how did you get it published in the end?
Posted by: anke | February 9, 2004 09:29 AM
Danny,
Once again your experience and writings touch this artist. I'll keep my reaponse brief: I have no unpublished novels sitting in a drawer in my apartment, however I do have a stack of collages underneath my bed. Last Thursday evening I visisted our local art walk "First Thursday" here in San Pedro, CA. I'd been waiting almost 2 months to take over my work to show to the owner of a local gallery with whom I'd struck up a repore. His reaponse to my designs was "Well, they've got potential." I took this to be words of encouragement, though I guess I'm not ready for public viewing at this point. Hmmmmmmm, I wonder how I'll know when I'm viewable?
Doug
Posted by: Doug | February 9, 2004 02:22 PM
You actually have a set of remarkably kind and encouraging rejection letters. The fact you got any handwritten notes, and any suggestions to other publishing houses, shows that your work was actually read...thats quite a few steps above the normal fate of most submissions.
Posted by: hcduvall | February 9, 2004 03:44 PM
Yes, I agree -- I've worked in publishing as an editor and as a writer for about 12 years, and have written about sixty thousand rejection letters. You should be proud of these: what they say is, You're going to get published, so don't worry that we're not going to do it. It's an odd message to receive, I understand, but it's a very positive one.
Posted by: Old Hag | February 11, 2004 10:39 PM
i really enjoyed these rejections and esp. your comments...love your stuff...my friend is taking your class at artiology...look for malessia howard...
Posted by: andrea | February 12, 2004 10:26 AM