Not being gracious
I don’t want to be gracious. Like a good little girl.
I threw something. It happened to be a bottle of chocolate milk, which is sad, because I got it for myself as a treat. And now it’s mostly on the floor. I usually don’t throw things.
I’m the kind of person who almost never freaks out to that extent. I might punch a pillow, but that’s because I know it’s a pillow. I don’t like to lose control. Which is why I’m one of the only kids in the world who has never gotten drunk.
Even as I start to get upset, I’m telling myself, “This is not a big deal. A big deal is when your parent dies. A big deal is when there’s a nuclear explosion. A big deal is happening in Japan. Not here in your little apartment.”
This is another rejection letter, the second of the day. And guess who it’s from? WHO ELSE? DANIEL JONES. MY ARCH NEMESIS.
I’M YELLING NOW.
Bear says, on gchat, “Honey, most people consider getting into Modern Love career-making.”
Then he says, “I’m sure they only accept 1% of the submissions.” Bear almost never gets very upset. I’m the emotional one.
I say, “I know a girl who got in.”
I know her. I have met her. She is real.
And of course it’s not just this. It’s never just one thing, right? It’s that I am a writer and I get rejected ALL the time, and I don’t get any better at getting rejected. It’s that I’m terrified of not making it. I feel like I’m falling behind all the time. I feel like I will never be anyone who matters to the world. I don’t know why I want to matter to the world so much.
I’m constantly writing notes that begin with, “That’s OK! I’d be happy to send you something else!” Being polite is so important.
But I don’t want to be gracious.
“Don’t write him back,” I tell myself through clenched teeth. My fingers are over the keys. They are poised to type something with a lot of very inappropriate words and then something subtler and more nuanced like, “Daniel, you cruel, cruel man. Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you think I’m worth it? Why do you do this to me over and over?”
What if I never amount to anything? I’m asking myself in the kitchen. I’m baking and crying. This is pathetic. This is incredibly pathetic. This is not one rejection letter. This is me doing something completely impractical with my life, because I love it. That classic story that’s really only charming when everything works out. And maybe it will never work out enough to make me believe that it’s working out. Bear says that. “You’ll get your book deal, and you’ll have to write another book. You won’t be satisfied.”
I am crying and talking to Daniel. “Why won’t you just give me a break? I’m trying so hard.”
I burn my hand. I turn up the music. So much louder. Like I’m going to blot out the quiet of my failure. It’s really very quiet, this kind of failure. A neighbor knocks on the door and asks me to turn the bass down.
“I don’t know how,” I say, “But I can turn the music down.” Damn subwoofer.
“You don’t know how?” he asks.
“I’m Kate,” I say.
“I’m Steve,” he says. We shake hands. He leaves, I go back to crying and baking, with no music. I bake perfect fluffy crescent things. I vacuum. I hit the wall, hard. I bang the vacuum into the bed and I don’t care at all. It’s sort of invigorating.
I leave the chocolate milk for hours, soaking into the wood. I can’t deal with it.
I send out another pitch. I work. I edit my resume for the pitch I’ll send out tomorrow. I take some pictures, like Penelope Trunk (although smashing a lamp over your own head is probably more dramatic). I think of her.
And then, eventually, I pick up the bottle. There is still some left, so I drink it. I feel a little bit better.
* * *
Un-roast: Today I love my dirty nails. I’m sure it’s been an un-roast on another day. But I love them. So there.
Kate on March 25th 2011 in life
Stacy responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:13 pm #
Having a royal fit can be so invigorating! It does help to dispel the negative emotions, so you go right ahead and throw stuff and slam the vacuum around. It feels GOOD.
Then get back to work.
You will realize your dreams.
You have more support than you know.
Karin responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:15 pm #
No pithy advice from me. Just this. I found you, I read you. You make me think about things. You charm me and you make me smile. You do amount to a lot.
Throw, cry and then get back to work. Be sure to get a long, crushing hug (no pun intended) from Bear when he gets home.
Liz Nord responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:17 pm #
Sometimes I kick my desk or a soccer ball really hard against the wall. But, really, running is the only thing that dispells the negative energy.
It seems like you’re writing career is going very well. You should be really proud of yourself!!
Good luck with Daniel.
xx
Kelly responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:21 pm #
Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know who this daniel is, but he must be a fool. you’re wonderful (at least in writing, lol).
Anyway, go ahead and get pissed off. Constant rejection must take a toll after a while. And I believe that getting mad is good for you. Not so good for your hardwood floors, but eh, who cares?
Bravo to you for having the guts to do what you love. And, at least you’re not crying over your spilled (chocolate) milk. I blame my father for my lame sense of humor.
Jess responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:24 pm #
I as a jack of all trades (one trade being writer) I know from rejection. It’s why I quit acting– where I was rejected based on my looks or the sound of my voice or even my height, not because of talent. Getting rejected shouldn’t be for something so superficial.
Throw whatever fits you need to feel better. But when you eat those fantastic looking crescent things in your post-fit state of calm, know that even submitting to the New York Times at age 25 is impressive as all hell. I’m the same age, and far too terrified/unknown to submit to significantly smaller, online only publications. I congratulate you on your confidence and coming this far. It’s not over yet!
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:27 pm #
@Kelly
That made me smile. There’s was spilled milk and I was crying! I can’t believe I didn’t manage to connect the two somehow…
Emmi responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:41 pm #
I also am a fan of being in control. I’m not a control freak, I’m a control enthusiast. Though when I finally snap, I usually just stomp about the apartment for half an hour ranting hilariously (according to my husband). Though I’m not exactly what you’d call coordinated, and something usually ends up getting broken and/or messed up, so the effect is the same.
I read a ton of blogs. I have an inordinate amount of spare time at work and I have a bunch of interests, so what I read is pretty wide and varied. What I particularly like about your blogs is how you post so frequently and with such good content. Some blogs post amazing stuff, but rarely – a la hyperbole and a half. Some post every day, but 80% of the stuff is pretty mediocre – but you slog through because you know another amazing post is just around the corner. In my opinion, your posts have an excellent content level every time. Even when it’s just something simple like this, reading it is enjoyable and relatable. And because of this, I know – as surely as I know anything else – that you will be an incredibly successful writer. From where I sit, you’re already doing great and well on that path! But I also know that moments of frustration and insanity happen, thus evidenced. But you are headed for marvelous things, the best kind of marvelous – painstakingly carved out with only the tools you forged yourself. It makes me so happy for you
P.S. I have that exact measuring cup set (handed down from my grandmother) except for the 1/3 cup, which my husband melted. I don’t know how it happened, and I don’t WANT to know.
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 12:59 pm #
@Emmi
“Control enthusiast.” Amazing.
Thank you for the incredibly kind compliment. Feedback like that makes me feel like everything really is OK. Even when I’m in the midst of throwing various types of milk.
I think the measuring cups were once my grandmother’s actually!
katri responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 1:15 pm #
This is why I’m terrified of ever finishing a book, I wouldn’t know what to do with my life anymore if I got rejected!
Liz responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 1:31 pm #
Oh man, rejection really sucks. I’m an actor and a playwright, so I get rejected allll the time. And sometimes it’s absolutely necessary to throw things and get mad.
And I think you’re right not to want to feel gracious- because you are an awesomely talented writer and deserve that attention and approval that these editors are (right now anyway) too silly to see. (That said, burning bridges never helps…)
I hope the advice that my various acting teachers/mentors/friends have given me- the same advice put different ways- can help you. They’ve basically said to see rejection like a challenge. I put it this way- it’s like a ping-pong match. You serve your best volley at them, and sometimes they’ll hit it back and it’ll zoom right past your head. So you serve again, but you do it a little differently, or with just a little bit more passion than before- or you just hit the damn thing again and again and again until they finally let one slip past themselves. Sometimes you have to swap opponents for a while, until you’ve improved your game or changed the stakes. But eventually, you’ll send a fireball past them that they can help but accept.
It’s a silly analogy, I know, but it’s how I get past being passed over for roles or having my writing turned down. I just keep thinking- okay, what’s next?
Keep going, you can do it.
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 1:36 pm #
@Liz
My rule is, get a rejection letter, send a query out. It helps.
I like the idea of looking at it like a challenge. Because it really is one, and really, eventually you get stuff that you want.
I know a guy who sent his manuscript to hundreds of agents before he got accepted by one. And then his book was reviewed on NPR and in the Times and they’re making it into a movie. So yeah.
And thank you.
Marie responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 2:01 pm #
Kate,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this post. I am a composer and get rejection letters all the time (and let’s face it, we only ever get about 10% of the things we apply for. If we’re lucky). I’m usually very gracious too and lately it’s been getting the best of me and I have been feeling EXACTLY as you said in this post: it’s only ever a charming story when it works out. I’m scared to death of it not working out, too.
I will say this, you are a fantastic writer. And you inspired me to start my own blog.
Ashley responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 2:10 pm #
Hugs! I totally undertand rejections. In the past 12 months I have applied for a fellowship, 4 jobs, and was passed up for a promotion at work. I was even flown out to DC for an interview, then cried a week later when I opened up the rejection email at work. I had to lie and tell my coworkers it was pms. I’ve never thrown milk, or smashed a lamp over my head, but I did stop applying for things for about 6 months just to give myself a break from the soul-crushing rejection. I’m back on the horse now, too, so kudos to you for not giving up!!
Oh, yeah, I want to echo Emmi’s compliment above!
Tyler responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 2:15 pm #
I will have you know that I did have a parent die, (mom, two years ago, cancer, 47, very sad, blah blah blah) and “smaller things” like rejection letters can create a much larger reaction in me. Just because something isn’t considered a “big deal” to others doesn’t mean it isn’t to you. You are ALWAYS allowed to be upset, and loud music and spilling milk (of any flavor) are totally healthy ways of dealing with those emotions.
P.S. I seriously love this blog.
P.P.S. And I thought I was the only one who never got drunk! The out-of-control thing tends to freak me out too. Thumbs up.
Tyler responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 2:15 pm #
I will have you know that I did have a parent die, (mom, two years ago, cancer, 47, very sad, blah blah blah) and “smaller things” like rejection letters can create a much larger reaction in me. Just because something isn’t considered a “big deal” to others doesn’t mean it isn’t to you. You are ALWAYS allowed to be upset, and loud music and spilling milk (of any flavor) are totally healthy ways of dealing with those emotions.
P.S. I seriously love this blog.
P.P.S. And I thought I was the only one who never got drunk! The out-of-control thing tends to freak me out too. Thumbs up.
Harriet May responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 2:30 pm #
I always bake when I get upset. Or, I did in college. Even when I was going through my vegan phase and had to figure out how to bake without eggs. My baking *with* eggs isn’t usually very successful, so you can imagine what a disaster being vegan (or trying to be) was for me.
Anyway, you’re taking big risks. Which is more than most of us can say, so you definitely have the right to be upset, I think.
Patricia responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 3:01 pm #
you are a fabulous writer — frequently the high point of my day. that you can be so insightful at your tender age is totally amazing. I’m probably three times your age, and still can still relate beautifully.
Raven responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 3:05 pm #
Ditto here, honey.
They’re always such very nice, personalized rejection letters. Things that never make you think that you have a right to be angry and hurt and throw things. Every one I’ve received in the last 11 years crushes me just as hard as the first, as if they’re rejecting not just the story but me as well. And sometimes those polite letters turn into backhanded compliments that make you want to throw a drink in the editor’s face. Know what I mean?
*hugs*
You’ll get there. You will. And so will I. Because we both know how to spin words, and we both have stories that need to be told. Get yourself another chocolate milk, put on something glittering and in clashing colors, and jump around to music. Invite Steve if you must.
Mary responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 3:08 pm #
I know exactly how you feel, except that I give up easier than you do, so you’ve got that much going for you. I really like your blog, by the way. Ever since Sarah Von linked it, it’s one of my new favorites.
Julie Cunningham responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 4:05 pm #
There’s something about rejection that really pares things down to the core of our being…. and we’re left wondering, “Am I the problem? Is it me?” Although neither you or I care so much about fitting in with the mainstream, there’s something very hard to grapple with about this idea that it’s our very self that people are rejecting, especially when passionate about our work.
Thanks for the transparency. I needed to know I wasn’t alone in those feelings today.
Dana Udall-Weiner responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 4:20 pm #
I feel your pain, Kate. I have barely started to dip my toe into the pond of writing/publishing (blogging doesn’t count because I don’t have to get anyone’s approval, and I can self-publish anything!), and doing so is daunting. I’ve only had rejection so far.
You are an amazing writer–perceptive and funny and warm and hella-smart. I think I’ve said this before, but I have the sense that one day you’ll win a huge prize for writing, or have a best seller, or be a columnist for the Times or something of that sort, and I’ll think, “Yeah, I know that Kate. I used to read her when she wrote this blog…”
I don’t want to tell you to cheer up, or to concentrate on all the good things in your life, because that can feel belittling and unsupportive. But I envision great things for you. And this Daniel is really missing out. Is all I’m sayin.
Jennifer Crow responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 5:26 pm #
I hate rejection letters too! And I know exactly what you mean, about feeling that you’re falling behind. It happens to a lot of us.
Right now, I’m getting a novel proposal ready to send out. And I’m terrified, because what if no one likes it? What if I’ve wasted years of my life *again*? (And I know people will say it’s not wasted if I’ve learned, and I have, but *still*.)
Anyway, good luck. And remember that next time you throw that chocolate milk, you’re throwing it for me, too.
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 5:28 pm #
@everyone
All this support means a lot to me! Thank you so much.
But I feel the need to clarify that I didn’t write this post in order to fish for compliments. Just in case anyone out there is thinking, “Well, that worked out AWFULLY nicely for her, didn’t it? Just whine about how much she’s failing so everyone can say, ‘no! no! you’re a success! don’t cry!’” I wrote it out of, well, throwing chocolate milk around and feeling generally terrible. OK. Clarified. Now I feel less bratty.
Also, for anyone who doesn’t know, since I completely neglected to mention this in the post, Daniel Jones is the editor of the Modern Love column/section/whatever it’s called in the NY Times. Sometimes I wonder if he’s ever actually read any of my pitches. There’s a chance he hasn’t. But either way, he is my arch nemesis now. There’s no turning back.
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 5:28 pm #
P.S. I think after these comments I’m pretty much obligated to become a famous author so as not to let you all down
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 5:34 pm #
@Tyler
Ok, first of all, I’m really really sorry about your mom. And just reading you write that gives me perspective, even with the “blah blah.” Because I really am being a baby, even though it’s impossible to go through life without ever being totally dramatic and unduly upset. Anyway, I appreciate your comment, and the fact that you didn’t just tell me that I was absurd.
Secondly, I don’t know why WordPress won’t let me delete the repetition of your comment, but it won’t. Weird.
Kate responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 5:38 pm #
@Katri and Jennifer Crow
Yes. And yes. (I’m going to dedicate that little moment to Sarah Von, who writes the blog called “Yes and Yes”, by the way.)
Writing a book and then sending out a proposal or queries is SO intimidating. You put so so much of your life into a book.
When I was sixteen or so, I finished writing a very terrible book that I’d worked really hard on, and I thought that I’d definitely be able to immediately get it published. And then I learned a lot of life lessons. Now I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get a decent book published. And I’m scared to start writing one, because of the emotional and time investment.
Valerie responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 8:33 pm #
I know exactly how you feel. I haven’t been rejected for my writing in awhile because I haven’t been submitting lately, but other forms of rejection are going on in my life right now. At least it seems like rejection anyway.
And I don’t understand why people think “taking it” is maturing. Sometimes I want to punch a wall or break something or scream at the top of my lungs. I think that holding it in is what makes people go mental. I think the difference between being mature and immature is when you know WHEN to throw something at the wall or not. A clogged drain? No. Rejection? Yes.
I think we’re all allowed to feel better in any way we can. If it didn’t hurt someone else, go for it. I support you. We should have a National Pitch a Fit Day. I’m all for it!
Stephanie responded on 25 Mar 2011 at 9:51 pm #
I’m so sorry.
You should never feel the need to apologize for being upset. Writers put their entire selves into their work…it’s hard to just “brush off” a rejection letter. Don’t give up!
Melanie responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 1:07 am #
I do understand how you feel, in a way. I think many people our age can. I want to matter too. But I don’t think I have anything further to add.
My main reason for commenting was those measuring cups. Tupperware, amiright? My mother has a set in soft yellow, likely a wedding gift in the 70′s. Makes me think of childhood and home. Thanks for that.
Mandy responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 1:20 am #
Kate@
Hmmm… I wonder if Daniel Jones is your Good Enemy.
If your reaction to a rejection from Daniel Jones is to growl, throw a hissy fit and say to yourself, “I’ll show HIM!”… And if your next pitch to him is even better than the last…
I’d say he’s probably your Good Enemy.
The Good Enemy is a concept I heard about from Rosalyn Bruyere. The Good Enemy challenges you. He makes you smarter, stronger and wiser. He spurs you to improve yourself.
It’s an interesting idea…
And, no–I never thought you were fishing for compliments.
Every word I say to you is the truth.
You are a great writer. Every one of your blog entries makes me think, and most of them make me laugh, too. Sometimes, the things you write about have happened to me–and they remind me of things I had forgotten that I knew.
You tell the truth as you see it, which is rare and to be treasured.
And, you also remind me of how far I have come, and how tough that journey was, sometimes.
I have, in my growing collection, a mug made by Suzy Toronto, that says, “Never underestimate the power of a hissy fit!”
So, you go ahead and punch pillows, and throw milk, and bang the vacuum cleaner. You’re entitled.
And WHEN you publish your book, I’m going to buy a copy. Not because I’m a nice, supportive person, but because I know I’ll enjoy it immensely.
And, since, I can’t hug you myself, please ask Bear if he wouldn’t mind doing it for me.
Mandy responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 1:23 am #
Emmi@
“I’m not a control freak, I’m a control enthusiast.”
Ohhh! LOL! That’s utterly delightful! Do you mind if I use that?
Jenna Irene responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 6:46 am #
You just put into words the odd cold feeling that’s been hanging around my chest about MY work. Thank you.
& just so you remember, you are important. I’m a girl from Findland and you’re changing my life with your posts every day.
Meredith R. responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 11:27 am #
Oh lady- I must say that I just discovered your blog recently and think that you are one of the best ones out there. I sent it to my friend and she thought it was my secret blog, just because it sounded so familiar– you have an incredible way of expressing yourself in an accessible and relatable way.. there are many times I stop and think, “how did she get into my head?”
So you best keep on trucking because I want to read your book someday!
Ellie Di responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 2:35 pm #
I try not to think about this too much, but I have the propensity in me for violent outbursts when I’m pushed over whatever threshold is just too much. Never at anyone else, always at myself or at objects. And I hardly ever act on it. I let the burning horribleness build up and build up and it usually ends in tears. Just tears. But I know – because the dam has broken before – that a destroyed remote control or a deep bite in my hand could only be a microsecond away. I know that I’m capable of that kind of anger and white-hot frustration. It’s a scary thing to live with sometimes, but, thankfully, it’s under control.
(This was way too much information and just made me feel super vulnerable. I’m leaving it anyway.)
Lynn responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 4:39 pm #
Kate, did you climb inside my head this week or something?! That is exactly how I have been feeling lately, except that my particular artistic skill is acting, not writing. I absolutely know how you feel and I know exactly where you are right now. Thank you for posting this, you’ve made me feel understood
I’m sorry for your frustration, but thank you for sharing it 
Ishky responded on 26 Mar 2011 at 8:12 pm #
At least you are willing to risk rejection to get what you want. Some of us never manage to cross that threshold.
JessB responded on 28 Mar 2011 at 12:01 am #
I’m a little late to the party, but just wanted to agree with everyone else and say that you’re doing a great job. You’ll get there, sooner than you think, I’m sure.
Also, this?
“I feel like I will never be anyone who matters to the world.”
I get that. I’ve been feeling the same for a few months. I don’t really know what to do about it, but I’m still here, and that’s kind of all that matters for now.
Eat the Damn Cake » Get lost, weight loss ads! I will never surrender! responded on 28 Mar 2011 at 12:08 pm #
[...] This blog is now big enough that I can sign up with an ad hub and attract paying advertisers. So I did that, feeling very cool about myself (this was before the chocolate milk incident). [...]
Hannah responded on 07 Apr 2011 at 7:17 pm #
This is exactly how I was feeling today, except instead of throwing a fit I moped about it a lot, ate food to feel better, got grouchy and angry about stress eating, etc.
Thank you so much for reminding me that I am NOT the only woman who’s ever been a little aggressive around the edges to make things better and that they do get better somehow.
I’m off to read other posts right now!
Modern Love Rejects responded on 09 May 2011 at 4:18 pm #
[...] last piece she submitted to Modern Love was practically perfect. When it got rejected, she wrote this blog post out of sheer [...]