My CV of Failures

On March 2nd this year, I was rejected from the only graduate program I’d applied for: a Masters of Arts in English in the Field of Creative Writing at the University of Toronto.

I told myself that the program only accepted 7 people per year. I told myself it was silly to put all my eggs in one basket and that creative writing classes were no indicator of success in a writing career, particularly for women of colour. But at the end of the day, the fact remained that I did not even get waitlisted for the only committed plan I had pursued. For the first time in my life, I had been certain of my way, and then the path disappeared.

I gave myself the weekend to mourn, and then launched into action, applying for fellowships, retreats, and classes. I looked into MFAs worldwide. I submitted a dozen applications. Keeping busy has long been my coping mechanism, and I’m an expert at it. I moved away to a different province and pushed away reflecting on what this profound failure meant for my life and career and continued to do so — until now. Until #ShareYourRejections began trending on Twitter this week within the writing and publishing industry, and I decided to pause, embrace that idea wholeheartedly, and consider how my work and success have persevered amidst my failures.

The first step I took in doing that was to sit down and write out a list of times I had failed. The complete list would have been far too long and frankly insignificant (i.e. I have been rejected from Pizza Hut), so I decided to write out a complete list of schools I’d unsuccessfully applied to (since those had all felt particularly impactful at the time) and then highlight some notable failed job applications, awards, and publications. The result was the following.

1. Failure is not the opposite of success.

I was an award-winning Co-Manager at Caffiends Café. It was a central part of my university experience, and every time I visit the space, even now years later, I see my fingerprints everywhere — the whiteboard with the Tea of the Week, the plaque above the microwave, the very room itself. I devoted myself wholeheartedly to my work during that term and felt well-recognized for it too.

But what many don’t know, and what I myself sometimes forget, is that I applied for that same job four months earlier and didn’t get it. I took it hard and cried for days after. Not getting it then turned out to be a blessing in disguise and something I’m now so thankful for.

2. I haven’t failed enough, and I haven’t tried enough where it counts. 

I decided a year ago that I was going to pursue writing full-time as a career and applied to a graduate program to make that happen, but I didn’t succeed. Though it felt monumental to me as a failure, it was really just one try.

Additionally, I tried to think about failed submissions in my writing career, such as being rejected from a paper like The Globe and Mail or The New York Times — but my writing has actually never been rejected from either. The response pieces I’ve submitted have been published in both (and if I’ve submitted anything larger, I’ve forgotten). Though I’ve taken many chances with jobs and volunteer opportunities, I have not shot nearly as high with my writing, which is far more personal and important to me (and thus, scary to take risks with). I’m determined to do so more in the future, even if it means stubbornly pitching my Son Doong piece to a dozen more publications if need be (hit me up if you’re interested in buying please!).

Read Part Two of this reflection, in which I focus on how to move forward with my writing: I’m Done Being An Aspiring Writer.