Yesterday I went out to get the mail. In our box were one of my Etsy trades, the latest Martha Stewart Living, and a thin envelope from Hedgebrook. I walked through the garage, forgetting to close the door, and called to Erik, “I don’t think I got in to Hedgebrook. The envelope’s too thin.” He emerged from the kitchen and met me in my office as I fetched the letter opener from the drawer, and together we went back to the kitchen and sat down. I slit open the envelope, and as I removed the single sheet of paper, I knew I’d been right.
Dear Ms. Hsia, Thank you for applying to Hedgebrook. We received a record number of applications this year — close to 800 — for our 2011 session, and we anticipate being able to accommodate approximately 38 writers for that session. A panel of readers has reviewed your application and I am sorry to say that you were not selected for a 2011 residency.
I ran my finger from “800” to “38” and murmured, “Craziness.”
“That’s what, 4%?” Erik calculated. “Isn’t Harvard, like, 13%?”
I smiled at him, thinking how grateful I am to have a partner who knows just when and how to offer perspective. (As it turns out, this year Harvard’s freshman acceptance rate came in at a record low of 6.9%.) I read through the rest of the letter until I got to the director’s signature (blue ink, real handwriting, not a printout or a stamp). It is a very nice rejection letter, full of encouragement to apply again and look into other options in the meantime.*
Intellectually, I don’t mind not getting in. I put together a good application that I’m proud of (and which helped jump-start the family history), the odds were insane, and I can apply again as many times as I like. I’m new enough at my creative life that if I had gotten in, there would have been a real risk that I’d spend my 2-3 weeks of residency twiddling my thumbs and doing lots of yoga along the shore. But, of course, we’d all rather get into things than not get in! I could tell, after I read the letter, that I was going to feel a bit crummy for the rest of the evening, so I posted the news on Facebook (and got lots of encouraging messages from my VONA friends and others), did some yoga, and had a good hot dinner while reading children’s fiction.
It’s helpful to remember, now, the time when I auditioned for beginning modern dance in college. I bought a new fitted top and pants for the occasion, and a dancer friend gave me a quick prep session the morning of, but otherwise I was unprepared. I really wanted to get in, but as soon as the audition (a dance class) started, it was obvious I wasn’t very experienced. I couldn’t follow along, and my arms soon got tired in port de bras. When the teacher told me I hadn’t gotten in, I was disappointed, but also relieved I wasn’t going to have to go through daily renditions of the same 90 minutes I’d just experienced. Over the rest of that semester and the following break, I took up yoga, and when the next term rolled around, I auditioned again, this time in a proper leotard and tights. Yoga had taught me about my body, and now the movements made more sense; I still had trouble, but I wasn’t floundering. By the time class ended, I knew I could handle an entire semester of it, and that’s when I got in. It strikes me that this is probably applicable to Hedgebrook as well. I can write, but is my daily practice ready yet for a concentrated, solitary residency of at least 2 weeks? Probably not… but it will be, if not next year, then the one after, or the one after that.
A few days ago I was browsing Nicky Marone’s website — author of the lovely book What’s Stopping You? (which I read in its earlier edition as Women & Risk) — and I discovered she now has a blog. One of her recent entries, a response to a reader’s questions about failure, begins with this brilliant declaration:
In our culture, we don’t like to talk about failure—as if failure were the opposite of success, rather than a part of success. In other words, when an individual does achieve success, we rarely see the many failures they had to endure along the way. So, don’t take a snapshot of this moment in time and label it as “proof” of your failure. Think of yourself as still in process.
She goes on to tell a great story about Thomas Edison having to go through 10,000 wrong filaments before he came up with the right ones for the light bulb. I remember at VONA one of my lovely fellow writers, Maryam, said, “I can’t wait to start getting some rejection letters!” I approached her afterward to tell her how much I admired that way of looking at it. It’s very much in line with Marone’s wisdom about failure as a part of success. So! This letter from Hedgebrook isn’t a rejection, it’s one step of a long journey to becoming a mature writer, and it’s exciting because it means I put myself out there in pursuit of my goals.
Cheers!
*Through one of their suggested websites, I learned that there are residencies available in China…!!! How amazing would that be, once I get further along with the family history?
Lisa, I’m sorry you didn’t get the Hedgebrook scholarship. But I do so admire your thoughtful acceptance of the “rejection”. When the student is ready, the teacher/experience/situation will come. So you just keep working, writing, painting, growing, getting better at your craft, and applying to Hedgebrook (or whatever interests you). It will all come together at the right time, as you say so eloquently. Well done!
Thank you, Sherry! Your “When the student is ready, the teacher/experience/situation will come” wisdom echoes what many other writer friends have told me. I’m so grateful for it because it helped me remember the dance experience I wrote about in this post, and yes, I do believe things will come together at the right time! This is good incentive to further develop my regular writing practice. 😉
I love the spunk.
Makes me feel less crummy about mine.
I wish I had had someone to talk to after I opened the letter.
In any case, I had meetings all day and dinner with great friends so I forgot all about it.
Thank you!
We will get in when we need to get in.
🙂
BTW, the publishers seminar was good.
Let’s see if we can have a date early next week.
Glad you found community after you got your letter too. 🙂 I was thinking of you!
What’s your schedule like next week?
[…] statement. This is more daunting than the bio, but since I did write an Artist Statement for the Hedgebrook application, it might not be so […]
[…] last post, the one on creative discouragement, got cross-posted on the Hedgebrook blog. The one time I applied to their residency in 2010, I didn’t get in, so this is validating on multiple […]