Rejection and a Teflon Mind

I was sixteen when I went on my first modeling casting. For days afterward, I waited–and waited–for the phone to ring. When my agent finally called, I held my breath. Had I done wonderfully? Horribly? Booked the whole compaign? I pictured myself in a photo shoot on some tropical island, far far away from high school…

I had another casting to go to, he said. Huh? What about my first audition? Minutes later, I comprehended what “Don’t call us, we’ll call you” and “NEXT!” actually mean. Booking work wasn’t my job; bringing my best game was. Soon, my brain became like a Teflon pan to rejection. It’s not grown sticky since.

Once I started acting, my agents–I had a pair–in L.A. phoned me after my first few major auditions, sounding like heartbroken dads about to tell their daughter that her dream Sweet 16 B-day bash was a wash. After nervous-sounding small talk, they’d break the news: “They… [deep breath] Uh… really liked you, but… They went another way.” “Great!” I’d reply. And meant it. I was grateful for a phone call period. And positive feedback? That was new. Once they understood where I was coming from, we all felt calmer. I gradually booked work–steadily, for an actress. Even so, I had many more nos than yesses.

If there’s an honorary masters degree in rejection, I’m pretty sure I’ve earned it.

So when my literary agent told me this week that more publishers passed on my manuscript, the “rejection” slid off my Teflon mind, not allowing me, or my hopes, to get burned. I walked away from the news excited, eager to cook even more.

My agent no longer hustling on my behalf would burn. Me not working my butt off would burn far worse. But every ‘no’ is progress toward that invaluable ‘yes.’ All writers continue progressing, as long as we don’t give up. Our job is to be ready for the doors that swing open when they do, to seek those doors and just…keep…writing.

Rejection may not always feel like positive news, and it’s normal and reasonable to vent, whine, cry or feel sorry for ourselves when it strikes. (I embrace rejection nowadays, but trust me, I’ve had my moments…) What’s important, I believe, is forging on. Rejection is simply part of the job, and if we let it drag us down, we might rob ourselves from incredible opportunities. I’ve seen it happen time and time again with models and actors. Those who see bookings as frosting eventually book work, often loads of it. Those who dwell on undesirable feedback jump ship too soon.

We’re aren’t meant to book every gig, land every opportunity or even accept every offer that stands. If I’d have taken my last television opportunity, I would have been in Sweden the day I ended up meeting my agent. If I’d have stuck with acting when my heart was no longer in it, I wouldn’t have progressed as far with writing–or, God forbid–been pulled away from it.

Landing an agent or publishing contract is a lot like finding the love of your life. Most people experience heartache along the way. But the most happy, in-love couples refused to settle or stop believing in something more. That thought helped me when relationships and acting work fell through.

Next time you hit a perceivable bump in your career, or face the rejection monster, I hope you’ll give yourself a pat on the back, treat yourself to dinner and some quality writing time and start dreaming and working (even) harder. That’s what I’m doing tonight, sitting in my hotel room in Cleveland awaiting room service–totally stoked about Bouchercon. 😉

How do you deal with rejection? What has it taught you?

The Happy Manhood Operator

 ♦  “Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.” — Zig Ziglar   

Last week I shared how daydreaming helped make my aspirations of moving to Los Angeles come true. I imagined a whole lot, but never that my daydreamy attitude would lead to altitude of…other kinds.

One of my first acting jobs in L.A. was a European energy drink commercial. I played a grad student in a physiology course, studying a cadaver with a group of classmates. We shot it in a functioning morgue.

My scene’s premise: Before “Joe” became a cadaver, he’d consumed a GoFast energy drink. As I bent over the body in the purposely low-cut scrubs, Joe’s manhood gave my chest a firm salute. Yes, friends, GoFast energy drinks keep one excitable—even postmortem.

The star of the set, in my opinion, wasn’t me, the other actors or even Joe’s elevating manhood. It was the manhood operator.

I don’t remember the man’s name, but I recall his attitude. He not only operated but created the remote control penis, precisely for such purposes. He sat off camera, pushing buttons to stimulate the punchline fodder like a professional fisherman—awaiting the next nibble, activating when necessary. He didn’t laugh or blush or show off. He simply did his job, took pride in it but stayed humble, and was happy to answer a curious actress’s questions. (You’d be amazed at just how handy an erectile contraption can be in Tinseltown—and no, I’m not talking projects rated X.) In a word, he seemed grateful.

There were numerous complainers on set—understandable to a point; the place did smell of embalming fluid and who knows what else. And there were actual corpses on the premise. But Mr. Manhood Operator stayed pleasant. I know what some of you are thinking: How could a manhood operator not be happy? Well imagine sitting still in a stinky, weirdly lighted corpse-cooler for hours on end, waiting to push a button then being scolded for being a half-millisecond off. It’s not as sexy as it sounds.

When the day was done, Mr. Manhood Operator smiled, thanked us all and left—probably eager to spend time with his wife and grandkids I learned some about. Arguably the most crucial piece of that commercial’s puzzle gained the least amount of praise or glory. Hopefully he was paid well. I also hope he talks about his job at his grandkids’ school on career day. Regardless, the experience and his character have stuck with me.

As they say in theatrics, there are no small parts. I think the same holds true in our careers. Not all of our work will be glamourous, or even pleasant. But if we do what we love and love what we do, and keep our chins up and hearts open, we can go a long way. More importantly, we’ll better enjoy the journey.

Before writing this post, I hadn’t seen this video—yet another perk of blogging. Thanks to YouTube, I can welcome you to sit back and enjoy the show. Have a giggle and let it be a lesson to all: Do not walk or drive mindlessly. As for stimulant use, I’ll save that for another post. 😉


Who’s YOUR manhood operator?
Let me rephrase. 😉 Have you encountered someone with an odd or unpleasant job who knocks it out of the park positivity-wise? Do you find it easy to stay positive through the grunt work? Any zany invention stories to share?

LSR #7: Pursuing Passion

pas·sion/ˈpaSHən/ Strong and barely controllable emotion. N.

—Dictionary.com

Before I transitioned from acting/modeling/writing to writing full-time, I felt like I was in a polygamist marriage of four in a house made for two. Once I filed for “divorce” (ex-nayed the first two), I hit what some might call…popularity. I called it turbulence.

The acting career I’d been neglecting, after months of angst over lost passion, ignited. I was in higher demand than I’d been in ages. What, were the thousands of other actress on strike??? I tried to ignore agents’ calls, but they kept coming. And the more I ignored, the more prevalent they became.

One day my theatrical rep called with a “huge” opportunity. “I know you’re thinking of ending your contract,” he said, “but you’re a shoe-in for this. They asked for you specifically. Please, tell me you can make it… For me?”

Ugh! Wah! I don’t wanna!  “Sure, if it’s that important to you,” I said, shunning myself for caving in. I felt like a hypocritical brat.

Shortly thereafter, my commercial agent called:  “Hey, remember that yoga casting last month?” (Uh, the one I hoped I wouldn’t get?) “The client wants to check your availability for tomorrow.”

And so I surrendered to one more day of pounding the Hollywood pavement—a fit model job followed by a director’s meeting for a primetime show. I could put the modeling cash toward writing expenses, I rationalized. They said it shouldn’t take more than an hour. Maybe I’d write about an actress one day. Chalk the audition up to research. I even went so far as to meet with my acting coach to prepare.

The “short” modeling job went loong, landing me with a hefty parking ticket and audition tardiness. The time and money I’d spent preparing the three-page monologue in part-woman/part-alient dialect went down the tubes when a “star name” arrived at the studio. The casting director shrieked, hugged her and brought her in ahead of me. When I had my chance an hour later, I was ready to put all of my frustration into that monologue. (Take that!)

“Just give me the last two lines, Amber,” the CD instructed, barely looking up.

“It’s August,” I said.

“Huh?” she replied. “Oh, right. Go ahead, Autumn.”

Grrr…I considered improvising—something like: $%*($#(%*&*&(#*$&%($#*%&!!!! Instead, I recited the lines like a learning-to-read robot in need of a battery recharge and walked out, more certain than ever that my heart belonged with the page.

The whole ordeal felt a test from the universe, God, Buddha and Mother Earth combined, assessing whether I was really up for the career change.

So when my agent phoned with a call-back request—the CD must’ve been smoking crack—I declined. I felt terrible saying “no.” I respect and like the guy and he’d put energy and work into my career and this audition. But if I didn’t learn from my earlier choices, I’d learn soon. And my gut told me that the repercussions of repeat choices would be harsher.

The next day, when I could have been alien-ing it out at the call-back, I finished the first draft of my first novel. Tears filled my eyes as I typed the last word, confidant I’d made the right decision.

All goals and dreams require some amount of sacrifice. Prioritizing our passion can feel selfish, but it’s the farthest thing from it.

How would you feel if your favorite author never scripted her series because she chose to pursue a job she hated and spent all of her free time cleaning, partying or running errands for friends? What if Mozart, the Beatles or Elvis chose accounting careers because the arts seemed foolish?

We have a responsibility to nurture and prioritize our passions, particularly if we desire successful careers. 

Like the other Lifesaving Resolutions, pursuing our passions can help save or elongate our lives. Numerous studies have linked happiness and job satisfaction with boosted physical and emotional health. Researchers at the University College London found that happy people are 35 percent less likely to die within the next five years compared to their less giddy counterparts. Happy people are also more likely to eat well, keep up with physical and dental exams, practice gratitude and exercise.

“Generally, people flourish when they’re doing something they like and what they’re good at,” said Daniel H. Pink, author of “Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us,” in an interview with the New York Times. Put another way, following our hearts and working our butts off lends itself to financial and overall success.

I’ve found this to be true time and time again. Within weeks of cutting ties with the acting and fashion worlds I had new writing clients. Six months later, I met my soon-to-be literary agent—during a time I would have been in Sweden, had I accepted a TV gig. And I’m far from a solitary case.

A few famous examples: Susie Orman started her career as a broke waitress. Walt Disney was an ambulance driver. Brad Pitt handed out flyers in a chicken suit. Robin Williams began as a street mime. And before her mystery writing success, Mary Higgins Clark was a single, full-time working mother of five. A common thread among these successful celebs is the desire, willingness and commitment to pursuing their passion.

Whether you’re passionate about writing, painting, dancing, singing, ping pong or marketing, I believe the following steps can help fuel your passion, increasing your odds of health, happiness and success.

Eight Ways to Pursue Your Passion with Gusto

1. Talk about it. Having a passion means we’re crazy-hyped up about something. Sharing it with others amplifies our excitement, motivating us to forge on. We gain and give ideas and plant our enthusiasm and commitment more firmly in our minds. And you never know where the conversation may lead. (Charlize Theron met her agent at a bank.)

2. Learn to say no. Before our passions become full-time careers, others may not take them seriously. But we should. When I write, I’m working. This means that, barring emergencies, I’m not available to tend to the neighbors’ cat (cute as she is), pick up the dry-cleaning (bare as the closet may be) or meet a friend on the opposite side of town for lunch (fun as it sounds).

3. Limit distraction. Phone calls, Facebook, Twitter and web surfing all have places in our lives and, in many ways, help our careers. But spending more time social networking and promoting and less time creating work we can promote is counterproductive. Commit to working in a work-friendly, distraction-free environment whenever possible.

4. Congregate with passionate people. Passion is contagious! Spending time with other passionate folks boosts our morale, inspires passion-geared conversations and makes for an overall better existence. Conferences, aerobics classes, upbeat church services, Twitter #MyWANA conversations (for writers) and motivational speaker events are great places to start.

5. Don’t let others—or you—get you down. Negativity is also contagious. Passion and success can stir up envy, harsh criticism and greed in others. These aren’t the people we best hang out with or listen to. Our own fears and insecurities can function similarly. Keep a distance from negative influences. If it’s you, consider an attitude makeover or “check up from the neck up.” 😉 Talk to supportive friends and keep moving forward. Eventually, your emotions will catch up with your proactivity.

6. Study others’ success. As soon as I started writing my first novel, I purchased and read How I Got Published: Famous Authors Tell You in Their Own Words. While I wasn’t sure how my own path would pan out, reading others’ tales inspired me on multiple levels. We can learn oodles from our successful forefathers/mothers.

7. Give back. Having passion generally means we have something to give—our energy, knowledge, talents… Volunteer to share your talents with others. Support the work of others with similar passions. When it comes to social media, sharing of ourselves and supporting others are the BEST ways to go. To learn more, visit best-selling author/social media guru Kristen Lamb’s fantastic post: Why Traditional Marketing Doesn’t Sell Books.

8. Just do it. Suddenly quitting one job to pursue a passionate alternative isn’t always realistic, easy or wise. But whether your passions fall into the brand-spanking-new or hobby categories or you’ve been plugging away at or resisting them for years, action is necessary and doable, as in right now, today.

More rockin’ resources:
The Year to Slay Your Dragon: Ingrid Shaffenburg inspires us to get rid of heavy breathing “dragons” and dream big.
2012 and Planning for Success in the New YearKristen Lamb provides practical tips and inspiration for goal setting and seeking.
Gene Lempp’s Goals and Gremlins, posted on Lyn Midnight’s blog, reminds us to share our goals and allow some wiggle room.
Entrepreneur magazine: Steve Jobs and the Seven Rules of Success, by Carmine Gallo
Oprah.com: What to do if You Can’t Find Your Passion, by Elizabeth Gilbert

What do you do to empower to your passion? What additional steps are you willing to commit to? Any areas you struggle with? I’d love to cheer you on.

Speaking of PASSION, this Friday, I’ll be cheering talented bloggers on as part of the Beauty of a Woman BlogFest. If you’d like to participate by sharing a story or donating a prize, click here. To participate as a cheerleader and have a blast, visit my blog Friday. You just might win a Kindle/$99 Amazon.com gift card or other fab prizes! 🙂