This week, I received yet another rejection from a literary journal, Cleaver Magazine. It was for a piece I’d written about the first time I sat in a circle with people experiencing homelessness. The writing was a little edgy, totally outside my comfort zone, and I had high hopes it might resonate with the editorial team. But no. That’s about the 25th rejection since I started submitting regularly to literary magazines at the beginning of 2023. But this last rejection opened a wound I’ve often felt in literary circles. Come with me on a little walk down memory lane as I explore the notion of “Not good enough”; something I’ve carried for far too long…
It’s April 1981. My hands tremble as I open the envelope from the community college, where I’ve applied to attend a two-year writing program called Creative Communications. The process of gaining admission was arduous, including several writing assignments and a biography that was especially hard to write when my only credentials were being the high school yearbook editor, a collection of crappy poems, and a letter to the editor I’d had published in the local newspaper where I’d railed against the environmentalists that were threatening the mill where my dad worked and our privileged lifestyle (cringe worthy, I know).
My nervousness turned to glee as I read ACCEPTED in bold letters. My mother and I dance around the kitchen.
I tuck the letter into my backpack and head off to school. Our first class that morning is English (Language Arts), and I go in early as I want to share the news with Mr. “B.”. I excel in his class, and he’s an amazing teacher who has brought a whole new level of literary arts to our struggling little school.
“Hey Mr. B., I have some news!” I’d burst into his classroom.
He turns from the chalkboard and smiles. He’s a bit stodgy for our working-class town, but he and I have connected through my love of the classics that most of my schoolmates otherwise giggle through, none of them taking any of it seriously.
I hand him the letter and watch as his smile turns to a frown.
“College…you’re going to college?” The disdain literally (pun intended) drips from his lips.
I nod, my heart sinking. “Yeah… I submitted that piece I did for you about Great Expectations and how it reflected so much of modern-day society…remember?”
He nods. I can see he’s trying to regain some degree of diplomacy. “Yes, that was a brilliant piece…but Leanne, you should be thinking university…not community college!”
I look at him and realize he doesn’t know.
I can’t go to university.
Not because I don’t want to or can’t afford it, but because our little school hasn’t offered any courses I could take – and actually pass – to get the required 300 level university entrance requirements.
The only university credits were in math, physics and sciences. I didn’t get along with any of them.
And I’d been pulled out of French (which was a 00 course) in grade 9 because I needed to take extra math just to pass. I still remember the meeting with the French teacher where he said, in front of me, to my mother, “She’ll never be great in French, so no big deal.”
So into “remedial math” I was put, the label “dumb kid” pretty much blazoned on my forehead and that of the others who joined me every day for our scaled down math class where our dedicated teacher, Mr. K. did his best with this motley crew. Most days, out of frustration, he sent us outside with the pretence we’d actually learn something that way.
I fell completely into the self-fulfilling prophecy that I wasn’t smart enough for any of the university entrance courses being offered and community college would be my only option.
Despite that, I excelled in English Language Arts and History right up until grade 12. History wasn’t offered in my senior year due to low enrolment. Another door closed.
Upon graduation, when it became known I wasn’t attending university, I was passed over for any of the scholarships, including one for English Language Arts. I sat quietly in my seat on the stage and watched as the “smart kids” marched up again and again to get those awards.
I went on to college and excelled in the program, although I had to make a tough choice as the Journalism prof didn’t seem to like me while the Advertising instructor adored everything I wrote. Looking back, I realize that after feeling like I’d “failed” in high school, I wasn’t prepared to do that again in college. So, I willingly followed the path of least resistance and got an Advertising major rather than Journalism, which was what I had dreamed about since I was a kid.
It would be much later, before I realized how much I regretted many of the decisions I made during that time.
Who knew that a few casual words from a grade 9 French teacher would start the trajectory for a lifetime of not feeling like I measured up or was “good enough”.
But still I push on. Writing is in my blood. I can’t stop.
I began writing a novel a few years ago and have taken hundreds of courses to sharpen my craft in fiction and non-fiction. I also started writing poetry in earnest during the pandemic and have continued with that genre again taking courses, reading and learning from many of the greats like Lorna Crozier, Patrick Lane, even Margaret Atwood. I have a collection of over 100 poems out to beta readers. I’ve had some great early feedback, but still, I worry it’s all crap.
In 2023, I began submitting my work to literary journals and magazines to try and improve my publishing credentials. I had applied for a few Arts grants and was told over and over that having some literary publications under my belt would improve my chances.
Most of these outlets require you to include a bio with your submission – and here’s where I regularly have to make the admission, “Leanne has never been published in a literary journal”. I don’t have to say any more. The fact I don’t have an MFA, BFA or even a BA after my name tells its own story.
I now joke when I introduce myself in writing circles as “highly unpublished”. My partner, Michael, shakes his head at this, because he sees that I’m published everywhere – on countless websites, business articles I ghost write for industry experts, and those under my byline for magazines, newspapers, and blogs. I’ve written about everything from financial management, fishing and the environment, to poverty, addictions and homelessness. I even co-authored a book on workplace mental health.
But in the literary world, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I was flat out turned down to become a member of the Writer’s Union of Canada, not because of the quality of my writing I was told, but the “quality of my publication”.
I regularly think I must just suck. Maybe I should give up and stick with the business writing that has always paid the bills. When I rail about a rejection on social media, others tell me it’s par for the course and that I’m not alone. This doesn’t quiet the unrelenting voice of “not good enough” that is always whispering in my ears.
I recently shared all of this in a post in The Story Republic, an international writing group I belong to.
One of my pals there, April Bell, replied with this:
“You are a beautifully talented writer. It’ll come!” April asked ChatGPT about best-selling authors who don’t have a higher education plus how many times they were rejected. She found this – Rejection in all its Glory – that documents how greats like Charles Dickens, George Bernard Shaw, Mark Twain, J.K. Rowlings and Agatha Christie had many rejections before their acclaimed successes.
The outpouring of support from this community – where we share our work through both live storytelling and written submissions – was heartwarming and has helped lift my spirits. But more importantly, it highlights how we need to just carry on carrying on – even when it can feel hopeless.
I’m also reminded of how damn important it is to surround ourselves with colleagues and fans who truly get us and provide a safe place where we can experiment, learn, grow and just put ourselves out there – without fear of rejection.
I cringe at boasting, but wanted to share some of what my SR “family” had to say, in the spirit of celebrating all of who we are and not just the letters we might have after our names or the books we’ve already published.
There’s a place in the world of words for all of us.
“You know what’s incredible? Your indomitable spirit. You keep showing up, no matter how many times people tell you no.
Rumi Tsuchihashi
“Mate, we all have more going for us than our highest (or lowest) grades in school, but yes it matters to some gatekeepers.”
Michelle Spencer
“I’m excited about all the wins you’ve EARNED! 🥳💃🏾💃🏾 Education isn’t all about degrees. Judges establish criteria to make their work easier. Under-educated. Over-educated. Too old. Too young. Used a sans serif font in the application. Didn’t use a sans serif font. F them! Do you! You will find the judges that appreciate your work and award you for it. Onward!”
Jackie Davis
“We ALL fail. That is how we learn. There are only two things in life that we truly own. Our name and our failures. That is how we get better, stronger, and wiser. These people don’t know you. They don’t know the time, sweat, and brain power you used to put out your work. We know it. You are a success to us. Every time I listen to one of your poems or read your prose, I am in awe of your ability. Don’t let the strangers dictate your life. Keep finding new outlets and you will find someone that will appreciate your work. That person is out there. You just haven’t found them yet.”
Jeff Horner
“Getting chosen for publishing is like being chosen for a certain grant. The personality and mood of the people reading—the gatekeepers, lots of variables that are truly impossible to track. You write, you participate in community, you help others, you care for yourself and your family, you publish. So much love for you @Leanne Fournier.”
Dave Lewis
“You could view this as collecting no’s, in that you need a certain amount of no’s (how much? no one knows…) to get to the yes’s.”
Terry Hayes
“You are an inspiration and a muse, an advocate and an activist, a communicator and a writer. You show up time and again with vulnerability and humanity. You have a referral-based business (so cool). You are, quite simply, amazing. And nothing and no one can take any of that away.”
Caroline Harvey
“I love all of what has been said already, so all I will add is I love you, and I know every time you share your work you inspire, thought provoke, and rally new supporters. You may not always hear it, but it happens ❤️.”
Michael Averill
And then, when I couldn’t have possibly asked for anything more, I received this from one of our community members who offered these words, from their heart to mine.
“You’re better than good enough Leanne. Don’t ever let anyone else or anything else tell you otherwise. There is no university degree, no signed certificate, no published paper that can communicate even an ounce of the powerhouse that you are. These things are too small to contain the largeness of your words, spirit, and heart.”
Sabah Mirza
Oof.
So…maybe I don’t suck after all (ha ha). I’ll try and keep all of this tucked away to soften the next rejection blow when it comes. It matters. And I’ll keep trying.
Sometimes it’s important to find some love for what we’re trying to do and listen to those who truly see us.
And sometimes, we just need to find some love for ourselves.
Yes, I am good. More than good.
More than good enough.
