Let's start adding our rejections to our writing bios
Or, an incomplete list of residencies and fellowships that have rejected me
I was going over my “about” page on my website today in order to make some updates but something felt off and inaccurate. I finally figured it out—while I have a very tidy bio, a list of places that have interviewed me, anthologies I’ve been in, and awards, nowhere do I mention all the rejections I’ve received. And that is so much a part of my experience of being a writer. I’m planning on adding a list of my rejections to my website soon, but in the meantime, I thought I’d make a partial list of them here, starting with the residencies, fellowships, and grants I’ve been rejected from. I would love other writers to do the same. (Are any other writers doing this?) My friends and I have joked that we should all add lines to our bios like “She has been rejected by the New Yorker, the Atlantic, and so forth,” but in all seriousness I think our lists of rejections say as much about us, and about the state of the literary world, as our successes.
Looking at the below list: I’m amazed I believed in myself enough to keep applying to places year after year. This may have been partly due to my pre-medicated habit of compulsion. But I also remember making it an automatic process. Every year (or every other year, whatever they would allow), I would apply to Yaddo whether or not they accepted me. Applying was more of a lifestyle. Same with the NEA grants and the New York Foundation for the Arts grants. I feel differently now: I’d rather spend my time writing, and anyway, in terms of residencies, my kids are only going to be at home for a few more years. I don’t want to be away from them for weeks at a time. I wish there were more places like the Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts, which—in addition to having juried residencies—has off-season subsidized artist retreats, offering you the space to write but not the in-depth and time consuming applications or the soul deadening rejections.
Though there are a few upbeat notes in my below list (well, two), most of the narrative here, I think, is that you can keep applying to something and never get it. Or, like Yaddo, you can apply to something for years, finally get it, have to back out for mental health reasons, then go back to being rejected. I used to think that once I had an agent, a book, and a fancy award, any place would be open to me (no: see Yaddo rejection, 2019). Fine. But surely, once my book sold and I had a big 5 publisher, I would get accepted to things (no, again: see MacDowell, NEA, NYFA, Yaddo, Saltonstall, Adirondack Center for Writing, and Sustainable Arts Foundation).
At this point I’m tired of the usual hopeful trajectory of author lectures, which usually go like this: I struggled for many years, kept writing, and eventually I got my book published, it sold amazingly well, and now I’m famous and on the lecture circuit. Or, I struggled for many years, kept writing, eventually got my book published, I published more books, and it was my third book that sold amazingly well, so now I’m famous. Or, I started writing and my first book sold really well and I’ve been famous ever since. I want to go to a lecture series where non-famous writers talk about their failures and how the lack of traditional commercial success has affected their writing. How they kept writing despite that lack. Or how they gave up. The tension between writing what they want to write versus chasing commercial success. About how their book got published after many years of hard work but few people paid any attention to it and they still can’t get into residencies, or how their writing never got published so they gave up writing, or how their writing never got published but they kept writing.
In case it’s not obvious, I’m a little frustrated that the media — and perhaps residencies and grants—are like an echo chamber, at least a little. Success seems to beget more success. Everybody it seems wants to talk to [insert bestselling author name here]. At one point in this book publication process, I was surprised to see that even smaller places (podcasts I’ve never heard of, small college lecture series) want the [famous author]. But of course they do - it makes their programs seem more important. But let’s consider that there are so many equally talented yet unknown writers out there, and so many authors who have things to say worth hearing and worth supporting.
An incomplete list of residencies and fellowships that have rejected me
MacDowell: rejected 2013, 2014, 2016, 2021
NEA artist grant: rejected 2015, 2017, 2021, 2023
NYFA Grant: rejected 2015, 2017, 2021, 2023
Yaddo: rejected 2013, 2015, 2016, accepted 2017 but I had to turn down for mental health reasons; back to rejections for 2019 and 2022 which has been frustrating
Saltonstall: yes in 2014, rejected in 2023
Adirondack Center For Writing: rejected 2021
Sustainable Arts Foundation grants: rejected 2014, 2015 x 2, 2016 x 2, 2021
Hedgebrook: rejected 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2019
Millay: rejected 2014, 2015 x 2; 2016 x 2; 2017
Space Ryder Farm family residency: rejected 2017 (this one was just weird, as my kid had to fill out a small application too, and who wants their kid to feel rejected)
A Public Space Fellowship: rejected 2016
Dairy Hollow residency: rejected 2014, 2015, 2016
You are an inspiration to me, Debbie! I love this idea. I love how you keep re-applying! I don't think I have the strength to list all of my rejections but I will share this: On Submittable, which is just one of the several platforms I've used to submit my writing in the last five years, I've been rejected 374 times and accepted 24 times. Someone smarter than me would quickly produce a percentage. It wouldn't be good, that number. Ah well, I still like to admire the green flagged acceptances, even if there are only 24. I've gotten to the point that I don't hate rejections, I expect them and if I don't get one for a while I get anxious. The worst is hearing nothing at all, which as you know happens a fair amount! That's so annoying. Thanks so much for sharing this! XO