Mystery Blogger gathered all her old-school paper rejections and papier-mâchéed them into a piñata. She filled it with chocolate and took a bat to it when she signed her first book deal.Just about everybody guessed that one was made up. It must be because it sounded too good to be true. I did just get my first contract (with Sourcebooks) last spring, but the reality is that as long as we’re writing and pursuing publication, the rejections never end. Still, I’m seriously considering that piñata to honor all those years of no. Or, as I suggested to my fellow Operation Awesome bloggers, I could wallpaper my office with my rejections—except that I don’t have an office.
Other options:
- Decoupage them onto a life-size unicorn sculpture in celebration of my debut, Wonder Light: Unicorns of the Mist
- Interpretive dance—Picture me in a black leotard, waving torn paper and doing a dance of despair.
- Set them to music:
To the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat":
Try, try, try again, query someone else . . .
To Beethoven’s Fifth:
Not right for me.
Not at this time.
Your manuscript makes me wish that I had more wine.
Rejections are part of the game, and most of mine were polite. Some were even kind and thoughtful. But as they piled up over the years, I did my share of fantasizing about how to display or destroy them once I finally got a yes. And now I think, why not open up that file and do something with them?
Any ideas for me? What do you do with your rejections?
