What, Why, & How?

Interested in a slightly longer explanation of my 52 Rejections project? This is the post for you.

What is 52 Rejections?

52 Rejections is loosely based on a project I started in 2017, which I called My Experimental Year. For that undertaking, I designed and completed one experiment per month. (See here for a run-down down of my favorites and failures.)

Lately, I’ve been feeling stuck again, so I’d like to intentionally carve out some room to pursue some of my long-deferred goals and possibly set some new ones as well.

52 Rejections is also partly inspired by my older brother, who, in addition to being my life-long role model, seems to always be writing cool stuff, doing cool stuff, and getting grants to do and write cool stuff. A few weeks ago, he told me that he tries to send something off for publication at least every week or two. He doesn’t wait to make sure it’s good enough. He just does it. I, on the other hand, have a ton of finished work that’s just gathering dust. The day after he and I spoke, I started dreaming up this project.

Folks, I’m officially making failure my objective. For the next year, I’ll be trying to: identify goals without worrying how SMART they are; send writing and/or other projects off before they’re perfect; ask for unreasonable favors; and aim higher than my station.

Why rejection specifically?

When I announced to my parents my intention to seek out 52 rejections, my father was aghast. “Why not seek success?” he asked.

Like many of my friends and loved ones, I’ve found myself frequently paralyzed by my fear of rejection. Those chapters and articles I intended to publish? Never even sent off. Those grants I wanted to apply for? Never even attempted.

But if rejection is the goal, then I win by losing. Each new rejection will give me a little dopamine hit, any acceptance a happy accident.

The details:

I’m aiming to take as many chances as I must to get 52 rejections in one year. Here are a few more parameters:

  • Nothing counts as too big or small. I can run for president if I want. I can ask a friend for a penny. Doesn’t matter.

  • Each attempt should be something that is physically possible. I can’t ask someone to make me invisible.

  • In the interest of preserving the well-being of our relationship, I won’t seek rejection from my partner.

  • Each attempt should involve something I actually want, need, or, at very least, wouldn’t mind getting.

  • This should be fun. If it sucks, I’ll stop. If it sucks not, I’ll persevere. I’m pretty sure it’ll be great!