Rejection

Shaun Tan illustration from "The Red Tree"

Rejection happens to all of us at some time. Doesn’t it? To various degrees and in different guises. It can be devastatingly personal and pierce the heart or a simple knock back that barely raises an eyebrow. This year I have experienced rejection in many ways and have surprised myself in how it has affected me and how I have dealt with it.

Once, as a child and teenager, I was a big fish in a little pond. It was a small town – I mean really small – and it wasn’t hard to be the cleverest kid in the village. I worked hard in High school and achieved good results. I won the school prize in all of my subjects except one (German –vi#@* d#@@ d$ #*n Deutsche!) and I went on to get the first and only job I went for in the local library to get some money to travel. (Did I mention it was a small town? And that I didn’t aim very high?)

Shaun Tan illustration from "The Red Tree"

When I was in London I went for one job - as a receptionist in a small printing firm. The interview was terrific fun. I had just come from seeing “Silence of the Lambs” and was all a jittery mess wearing a sixties black jumper dress and psychedelic tights and patent leather boots, compete with Mary Quant oversized flowers on my ears. The boss, Bruce (no, not Springsteen), rang that night to tell me I didn’t have the job. There was a Canadian girl, he explained, with accounting experience. “We really need that accounting experience,” he stressed. We had a chat and that was fine. I was sad and disappointed (and broke!) and decided to drown my sorrows with sugar and make pavlova (as you did as a homesick teenager in London!) I had no more than separated the egg whites when the phone rang again. It was Bruce. They had reconsidered. I was much more fun than the Canadian girl and to hell with the accounting experience. Bruce was a very eccentric boss and he was right. We had heaps of fun. Although he could have used some accounting help.

Through all these acceptances and successes there was a huge long running rejection from a boy which somehow seemed to matter the most.  No matter how clever I was, it was never enough and that twisted my perception on everything.  I didn’t understand I couldn’t control the rejection through hard work, being funny, winning prizes, being clever or thin or pretty. My self-esteem was like a sand castle that was being blown down faster than I could rebuild it.

Shaun Tan illustration from "The Red Tree"

When I returned from what these days they call a “gap Year” I applied to study painting. I was pretty sure of myself when I went to the interview. I mean – I had won the art prize, right? With paintings. So I was gob smacked when the interview panel suggested I wasn’t a painter at all. The teachers suggested my work was very narrative- had I considered film making? Writing? Printmaking? Illustration? All I heard was this message. “You will never be a painter.” And I cried for the 2 hour journey back to the country. Cried until my false eye lashes fell off.

Those art teachers were of course right – I was/am a terrible painter. I hadn’t done any painting in my gap year and I am more suited to being some sort of story teller. But I didn’t hear that or accept that. All I heard and felt was the rejection.

Shaun Tan illustration from "The Red Tree"

Devastated and feeling pretty sad about my future, I then hopped on a boat to follow the said boy who kept rejecting me. I traveled interstate to start a uni course where I could be closer to him. When I hopped off the boat….guess what? He rejected me! Really – I know you all guessed that but I was really dim! Literally, as I disembarked he said he had changed his mind about wanting me there. As I disembarked! But here’s the crazy bit – I stayed anyway. I just couldn’t accept the personal rejection. My pride wouldn’t let me, my heart couldn’t cope (or so I thought) and I just stayed.

Shaun Tan illustration from "The Red Tree"

So that was my early  foray into dealing with rejection – pretty much cutting my nose off to spite my face or clinging relentlessly  to a sinking raft. I have never dealt with rejection in a very constructive way.

But finally I seemed to have grown up. (Phew – I’m sure that’s a relief to you all). This year, on a few fronts, I have decided to put myself out there - with my writing and with our business, sister outlaws. I have submitted a couple of stories to competitions and couple of articles to journals and have also sent a few children’s books to publishers.  With the business I have been applying for markets. And I have also applied for an art exhibition (NOT painting!)  And so far, I have done a crash course in dealing with the knock back.  My stories have not even made the short list of the competitions and the articles have been continually rejected from publications. As for the children’s stories – you never even hear back! The market stalls –you get some and not others. The art exhibition application has been unsuccessful.

So do I bury my head in the sand? Make a pavlova? Decide never to write again like some melodramatic silent movie star, sweeping out of the room with the back of my hand on my forehead, my negligee trailing behind? Well, there has been some plummeting of the heart and hope. Even some tears. But what the rejections have made me realise is what is important to me and I think of how I can improve my work in order to try again. It has made me want to write more and better and to improve on drafts and to try harder.  And as for other rejections – I will give up on some avenues and not cling to a sinking ship like that delusional teenage girl. I think I am building better resilience.

So thank you, Scholastic books, Penguin books, hachette books, Overland, Kill your Darlings, and the Big Issue. You make me want to write more and better. And as for you, Craft Victoria – I won’t be trying for your market or exhibition space again. Now. Watch me sweep out of the room dramatically, hand on forehead, negligee trailing behind me!