Routines and Rejections
Never underestimate a good cup of coffee and never waste a "no"
It’s National Coffee Day. That probably means you can leave your cozy house and find a chain restaurant to get a free cup of joe. For all the Starbucks, Dunkin’, and other coffees I’ve tasted over the years, it’s rare to find a coffee that tastes as good as what we make right here at home.
We use an electric grinder, natural filters, whole bean coffee, and a Chemex. Maybe we’re a bit pretentious about our coffee. But there’s something about pouring hot water from a stainless steel kettle over freshly ground beans that makes the coffee great.
It’s been a routine now for years. I get up earlier than my wife and daughters (and dog) most days. I make the coffee, check a few emails, then sit down to read my Bible and write in my journal. I’ve done this regularly since the fall of 2018. And I’ve grown to love it.
Developing routines is never easy. Getting up at 6:30 each day, if not earlier, was not a process I enjoyed. At least not in the beginning. But there is something to be said for the discipline of it. To overcome the discomfort of something and learning to do it consistently. Something about it makes you feel like a grown up, something that at 42 I’m still trying to figure out how to be.
Cheap coffee > No coffee
Drinking coffee in college was more for aesthetics than need. Writing a ten-page paper on Pearl Harbor or staying up late to study for a chemistry exam I needed to pass (lest I face an additional semester of college) didn’t require caffeine from coffee. I could get it from several cans of Mountain Dew Code Red or forgo the soda intake altogether knowing I’d make up for sleep the next day.
I didn’t know what good coffee was then. I used a powder creamer and way too much sugar. Some common brand, Folgers or Maxwell House, because we didn’t know better.
Cheap coffee in my early 20s wasn’t all bad. In 2001 I spent 75 cents on a mug of coffee from a North Charleston Waffle House. I had finished studying for a Western Civ exam I was sure to do poorly on. The fall semester was winding down. In the booth across from me was the girl who would become my wife. Still the best 75-cent investment I’ve ever made. Still the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.
Because like many things in life, the experience is made all the more wonderful by the people you’re with.
Preparing for bad news
Speaking of routines, rejection has become just that. As I apply to dozens of jobs, I’m getting a handful of form emails each week. All say the same thing:
“your experience is impressive, but…”
“Thank you for applying. Unfortunately…”
“We regret to inform you…”
When you get enough of these, you come to expect them. And truthfully, only a few of them are really discouraging. The jobs I apply to that are for companies I’d love to work for. The jobs that I know I’d enjoy doing and be great at. There are a million that I’m qualified for; there are only a few I truly want.
As I wrap up editing for my novel, I’m getting ready for another slew of rejections. I’ve read enough blogs and author interviews to know it’s just part of the process. Even the best get shot down, at least to start out. Unfortunately I’m much older than Stephen King was when he first submitted his short stories and novels. He’d nail rejection slips on his wall, shrugging them off. “When you’re still too young to shave, optimism is a perfectly legitimate response to failure,” he says in his book On Writing.
At 42, I’m optimistic. At least that’s what I’ll tell people. I saw this helpful tidbit on rejection from a writing newsletter this morning.
Instead of seething at every “How I Got My Agent” blog post, use it as confirmation that it IS possible to be picked up from the slush pile, whether you’ve been querying for a week (like those unicorn success stories) or for five years (like me!).
Rejection happens at every stage of publishing, and you can’t avoid the little bugger even after you’re agented, published, or a NYT bestseller. So accept it, embrace it, and learn from it.
Fitting dreams and reality in the same room
In job interviews, I hate the question “Where do you want to be in 5 years?” Because my honest answer would be sitting on a back porch overlooking the mountains or a valley or the ocean and writing novels while getting to spend time during the day with my wife and kids and dog.
Instead I give answers like “Well, ideally I’d like to be promoted and move up to middle management and spend the rest of my days working for this fine organization.”
Those are the answers we give because survival is a bigger priority than our dreams. We want financial stability. We want need to pay bills. We want to secure funds for retirement.
But in our hearts, we want to chase our dreams. As foolish and grandiose as they may be, that’s what we truly want. There’s a reason a classroom full of kindergartners, when asked what they want to be when they grow up, don’t say “a mid-level manager with a good salary and health benefits.” No! They want to be an astronaut or a pro football player or work with animals or a firefighter or a pilot. Or, as one boy in my wife’s class said, he wants to be a “karate”. Not a karate person, mind you, just a “karate”.
As I start to query agents with my book, I’m prepared for an onslaught of rejection letters. I guess I’m not the most optimistic person like a younger Stephen King was. But I also know I’m too old to not try.