The Happiness Project

Yeah, yeah, I can see you sneering and curling your lip - it does sound cheesy.  The Happiness project - it’s not my title but the name of a project at work, where we get sent motivational quotes and mini ‘tasks’ to focus on each day, via email, for ten weeks. Tasks centred on living in the moment and trying not to complain, things like that. It's a work in progress...

Friends, it’s come at exactly the right time for me;  a time of post-summer doldrums, a load more responsibilities at work, new school starts for kids (all change) and a professional disappointment. (And, yes, I know that a lot of people, all over the world, have got it a lot worse, OK. Knowing it doesn't always make you feel better though, on a dreary Monday morning, does it?)

For this post I’m just going to focus on the last point - the professional disappointment.
I was going to write a piece with the rather melodramatic title of  

‘There’s more than one way to have your heart broken’!

I am prone to exaggeration, I’ll admit that, but I did feel particularly heart-sore, after this literary rejection, last week. The knock-backs are always difficult but this one felt especially bruising.

A few weeks ago I attended an 'insight day', along with 50 other writers, which had been put on by a well known publishing house. This publishing house wanted to support underrepresented writers - writers classified as BAME, LGBTQ, people with disabilities or economically disadvantaged people. To qualify for the day, you had to submit some of your work and say why you felt you met the criteria. Apparently over 1700 people applied and of those 1700 +, they chose 150 to attend one of the 3 days they were running, based on the quality of their writing.

I’d applied, not really expecting to get through, so I was surprised and delighted when I found out that I had been invited to attend one of the days. I duly booked my hotel room.

The insight day was to include a panel of authors, a panel of literary agents and, perhaps the most important part of the day,  a one to one editorial feedback session with an editor from the publishing house.

The morning of the day felt like my wedding day, the first day of university and going to sit an important exam, all rolled into one. I was numb with nerves.

What was the big deal?

1. A room full of strangers - argh! Difficult at the best of times, but when there was so much riding on the day - whoah!  
2. The aforementioned editorial one-to-one session with the editor from the publishing house. Definitely in my best interests, but what if he dismantled my writing piece by piece and I wasn't able to take the criticism? What if he hated my work and had trouble hiding it? It felt like there was an awful lot riding on this.

What a day it was - encouraging, informative, energising and really emotional! There were some inspirational speeches and some really useful advice.
However, I'd found out, a week or so before the event, that of the 150 who attended the events, 10 would be selected to join a mentoring scheme, where they would be assisted on their journey to publication. I went into the insight day with a very low expectation that I would be one of the 10 selected. I also resolved to put aside my fears and take on board all of the advice, criticism and suggested amendments, that the editor had to offer.

Do you know what? The editor loved my writing - he actually told me that! It was the first thing he said to me. I was not expecting that at all. He also said that it had made him laugh out loud. I felt elevated by his approval. Even when he suggested the improvements/amendments he felt the manuscript needed, he managed to make it sound like praise. I bathed in the glow of all this positivity. OMG - I thought, does this mean that I’ve got in the bag? Am I going to be one of the chosen few, to get onto the mentoring scheme??*

* Spoiler - I wasn’t.

So when I found out, two weeks later, that I hadn’t been selected, my first feeling was not disappointment but disbelief. But...but...the editor said...I thought. Hubris, my friends, hubris! Then, I don’t mind telling you, I cried my eyes out.

Back to the 'happiness project'. On the day that I got the bad news, the very first ‘happiness challenge of the day’, waiting for me in my inbox, was this:

Choose happiness.

For the next 24 hours, make a commitment to yourself to choose happiness. Consciously track these happiness choice points throughout the day and at each juncture, consider if your choice will make your future ‘self’ experience more or less freedom.

I could choose to view the fact that I didn’t get through to the mentoring scheme as part of this negative narrative, whereby I never quite achieve what I want. A barren landscape of missed opportunities. Or I could say that I had attended an incredibly helpful day, and that the feedback from the editor was the pinnacle of that - both valuable and encouraging! I also have a list of literary agents and their contact details, who, according to the rejection email, would 'love' to hear from me. By choosing to see it in these terms, it makes me more likely to keep trying.

It wasn’t heartbreak, just disappointment.

This is what I wrote, a few days after attending the writing event:

I felt safe, I felt included, I felt welcome!

Nothing can change that.

Incidentally, of the other people who didn't get selected for the mentoring scheme, one has gone on to be shortlisted for a prestigious short story prize, one has a publishing deal with an indie press and another has had some journalism published in a national, broadsheet newspaper.