In my last two posts (honestly, three), I promised something fun as my apology for getting super serious and boring. And so now I bring you… rejection?
No, what I bring you is hope.
I bring you encouragement. I bring you a reminder that everyone (well, most people, probably) who’ve ever succeeded have first been faced with failure and rejection.
Advertising icons have been rejected by agencies, neglected by creative directors, outright insulted by clients, overlooked by award committees. And did they give up? No, they didn’t, and look at them today.
And what do we call that? Honestly, survivorship bias. But still! Rejection isn’t the end, and it doesn’t mean you aren’t just busting with creative genius that isn’t always appreciated by the people in charge.
I mean, look at these failures.
Andy Warhol, Thanks But No Thanks
That’s right, we’re kicking it off with Andy Warhol. He reached out to the New York Museum of Modern Art to offer his drawing Shoe as a gift. And it was, for real, so generous of him, but they have so many gifts and so little space and it wouldn’t even be displayed that much, so no, but totally, thanks for the offer.
New York 19
The Museum Collections
October 18, 1956
Dear Mr. Warhol:
Last week our Committee on the Museum Collections held its first meeting of the fall season and had a chance to study your drawing entitled Shoe which you so generously offered as a gift to the Museum.
I regret that I must report to you that the Committee decided, after careful consideration, that they ought not to accept it for our Collection.
Let me explain that because of our severely limited gallery and storage space we must turn down many gifts often, since we feel it is not fair to accept as a gift a work which may be shown only infrequently.
Nevertheless, the Committee has asked me to pass on to you their thanks for your generous expression of interest in our Collection.
Sincerely,
[unintelligible signature]
Alfred H. Barr, Jr.
Director of the Museum Collection
Mr. Andy Warhol
242 Lexington Avenue
New York, New York
AHB:bj
P.S. The drawing may be picked up from the Museum at your convenience.
Pick up your worthless sketch at your convenience.
Gertrude Stein, Ha Ha You Write Funny
Arthur C. Fifield rejected an unnamed manuscript from Gertrude Stein, telling her in a Stein-style verse that he didn’t even have time to read her work, and that one glance was enough to know the book would barely sell a single copy. Adorable! Except not, you dick. He apparently had enough time to mock her style of poetry, but not enough to read the manuscript that would later be published as The Making of Americans: Being a History of a Family’s Progress and sell, one can assume, more than one copy.
April 19 1912.
Dear Madam,
I am only one, one at the same time. Not two, not three, only one. Only one life to live, only sixty minutes in one hour. Only one pair of eyes. Only one brain. Only one being. Being only one, having only one pair of eyes, having only one time, having only one life, I cannot read your M.S. three or four times. Not even one time. Only one look, only one look is enough. Hardly one copy would sell here. Hardly one. Hardly one.
Many thanks. I am returning this M.S. by registered post. Only one M.S. by one post.
Sincerely yours,
[unintelligible signature]
Miss Gertrude Stein
27 Rue de Flerue,
Paris,
France
Dick.
Alice Walker, Too… Enthusiastic?
Why did Viking Press reject Alice Walker’s The Color Purple?
Too many exclamation points.
I kid you not.
Even I, who’ve never met an exclamation point I didn’t want to get rid of (and rightly so), would probably be able to look past the exclamation points in The Color Purple and get it into circulation at my rhetorical publishing house.
March 9th, 1981
Ms. Walker,
While your piece, “The Color Purple,” presents a compelling and thoroughly moving narrative, we were bothered by your decision to end every sentence with an exclamation point. As a reader, this was extremely jarring. I am afraid, for this reason, we are forced to make the difficult decision to pass on your manuscript.
Best of luck,
[unintelligible signature]
Stephanie Allen-Nichols
It’s compelling! It’s moving! But, I mean… pass.
You, Down But Not Out
I despair that I can’t find the full letter from Donald A. Wollheim at Ace Books to Stephen King, in re: Carrie, including this prediction:
We are not interested in science fiction which deals with negative utopias. They do not sell.
Stellar call, Don.
Now, you should remember one thing about your work: Maybe it really does suck. Plenty of work sucks. But maybe it doesn’t. Keep your chin up, seek (and accept) feedback, and if it really is worth pursuing, put your head down and pursue it. Could you be the next Andy Warhol?
No. You could not. But you could still be successful within your weight class, rejection — even fairly high-level rejection — or notwithstanding. Try, try again. I mean, don’t be stupid about it, but keep trying. I have faith in you.