Not Now, Maybe Later
Why I'm collecting rejections in a spreadsheet
I have a lot of good things going on.
I’m writing this from the Royal Court Theatre in London where, as a Writers’ Card member, I have free use of their writing space. While I don’t have a garden/yard of my own, my downstairs neighbours said yes to my request to keep potted plants in the gravel-filled space out front, and I recently had a salad of fresh lettuce I grew.
This weekend, I watched Brighton’s Pride parade, brought my books to a DJed Pride event to sell, and went to a cat cafe, where a furry little rascal named Fifi tried to steal my creamy drink.



Writing wise, I’ve been busy. I took part in two podcasts with The Good Book Life: Protecting Pride, which discussed the growing trend of removing Pride and LGBTQI+ displays from UK libraries and the importance of representation in the face of censorship, and Reading by the Swamp: Alternative Summer Reads, where we recommended unconventional favourites for the season.
I have a new story published in Mythaxis. "Rooted" features workplace burnout, a garden/forest Workaway, and an uncanny hostess. Talk about "getting back to your roots!" You can read it here, or listen to an audio version.
I took part in Aggh! Zine’s zine-making workshop, where I made a playlist zine for my YA novel Chasing Harmony (themes: gifted kid burnout, bi angst, Canada in the 90s/00s, and lots and lots of music). You can see the zine below (so much fun to make!), and listen to the Spotify playlist for my book here.
But…
So often, there’s a “but.”
When Plans Change
Publishing is a changeable business, and it just so happens that my entire publication schedule has changed at once.
I had a book planned for release this year. My literary romance novella, the project that got me through lockdown, is now going to be out next year - fall 2027 - instead.
The anthology I’m editing has moved from a March 2027 release to a June 2027 release.
My other planned 2027 book will, most likely (hopefully), be a 2028 book.
I’m looking forward to launching these books on their revised timelines. And it feels like a big adjustment at a time when multiple changes have converged.
Other things that I was hoping for, planning for, this year didn’t end up happening at all. A theatre show didn’t happen. A festival didn’t happen. Some big personal plans, the type of thing I don’t write about in newsletters, also didn’t happen.
I’ve been sitting with my disappointment when plans fall through, and asking myself, “What can I do instead? What’s within my control?”
Often, we do our best, but outcomes are partly or wholly beyond our control.
We can’t necessarily turn a “no” into a “yes,” or a “later” into a “now.”
We can, however, to paraphrase a saying, look for a window when a door closes.
Collecting Rejections
Writers get a lot of rejections.
I first read about the idea of collecting these rejections in a Literary Hub article when it came out in 2016. Writer Kim Liao proposed the idea of collecting 100 rejections a year. If you aim to get rejected by that many magazines, fellowships, residencies, or whatever else, you’ll likely get a few acceptances along the way.
I didn’t end up actively counting rejections at the time, though I did start tracking my story submissions.
More recently, actor and content creator Gabriella Carr has gone viral for pursuing 1000 rejections. And Jia Jiang has written a book about rejection therapy (as he calls it), after challenging himself to face rejection for 100 days in a row by asking for unusual things. Beyond the literary world, rejection can be pursued as a confidence-building exercise or a way to increase personal resilience.
Since I started hearing more “nos” this year, I’ve created a spreadsheet. I list the things I’ve applied or asked for, when, and the result. Most of them are “nos.” But a few are “yeses.”
We can’t always control the answers we get, or the plans that change. But we can ask.
What have you asked for lately? What would you like to?



