They like me! They really like...oh. Never mind.

On Writing, Comedy, and Queer Rejection Resilience.

In a culture that prefers quiet, submissive, unseen women, putting yourself out there feels extra vulnerable.

Whether you’re sharing your thoughts, your creative work, or your heart, you are taking steps to push back on that culture.

It’s exhausting, though.

And, occasionally, the rejections pile up, and you need a break.

And by you, I am of course talking about me.

In the last week, I got a rejection from a different publisher, a relationship ending, and an angry group of people leave at an improv show.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. The publisher was classy about it.

Publisher: Hi Shannon, thank you for submitting, but this piece isn’t a good fit. We look forward to reading your future work.

Me: Ok. At least they responded. Another small regional press leaves you on ghost, and you have to assume they moved forward. (I feel lots of ways about this.)

My first attempt at a medical memoir being lightly held by an academic publisher, and got an email a few weeks ago that they were slammed with Fall 2024 books, but would get back to me soon. That, friends, is not rejection. That is great communication. I really appreciate this about this particular aquisition editor.

Now, do I think the book needs more work? Of course. I need an editor to walk around with me in daily life.

Do I want to try other types of publishing? I have a series of bird oriented essays that want to be read. Want to be taken in. I thought they belonged together, but my astute first reader gave me the “what do you want your readers to feel” feedback. YIKES. Ha.

I know that feedback from my theatre experience. “Wow. You really wore that wig.” It’s the death knoll of responses to an actor.

Speaking of wigs:

Meet me as Kath. Kath is a middle aged woman who believes she is a Young Person Expert. She’s not far off from my love of young people, but Kath is there to bring folks, through BDSM to the Lord.

This hilarious character was not from my brain, but, as an aging non-traditional (read: queer) woman, I adored the opportunity to bring her to life, even for just 1.5 performances.

She’s shocking, and that’s the COMEDY part. She also has a huge heart, so, for many audience members, it’s just wildy inappropriate. For a few folks, namely, one man who sat near me for several sketches without wigs where I was clearly flagging nontraditional:

The hair. I know I choose to keep this hair. This hair is also a part of my personal artistic statement.

I did not choose for this moment to happen between us, this man who doesn’t approve, and made sure his significant other and the rest of us knew it. I was so involved in the very physical role that I didn’t respond, until later.

My body knows that feeling, and this time, had witnesses. The audience felt it, too.

They still (from other reports) LOVED the scene. It WAS hilarious. It WAS brave. And, I WAS the right actor to take it all the way to the WOAH place.

WOAH places are brave spaces, and this week had a few for me. By Saturday, I required softness, quiet, and naps.

Today? I’m refreshed. I’m ready to get back out there. I know I have work to do, on the front lines of shifting the culture. Of showing up. But also, naps. To avoid burnout, there must be softness, off times, and naps.

So, from my brave heart to yours, take good care of you. Do what you need to do, then get back up.

We need us out here. But we need us alive.