It’s deeply gratifying to see the all the critical reviews of Gwyneth Paltrow’s Netflix miniseries, “The Goop Lab,” which boasts the wellness elitism and woo that the brand’s become notorious for. The reality show, Paltrow’s most recent expansion of her self-care empire, explores alternative health treatments with gleeful irreverence for science.
This is definitely the most difficult article I’ve ever written. I wrote it because I heard over and over again from women that they were silenced from speaking out about their harassment and abuse, and in the most horrific cases, told to “look for their part” in what had happened to them. I am grateful to Vice’s health channel Tonic for having the guts to publish the piece. You can read it here:
I’ve got my first legit “beauty” piece published. It’s a memoir piece about all of the ways I tried to hide my lazy eye growing up and how it still haunts me as an adult!
I’m currently working on a full length book proposal based on this piece. You can contact me about this or other questions or projects at email@example.com
I took my first big step into investigative journalism with this new piece Vice’s health site Tonic:
I’m very psyched to be back writing for Vice.com once again, this time on their Health site “Tonic.” Check out my latest piece on boozey cures!
The website that made me a full-time, professional freelance writer is no more. Over the weekend, Examiner.com officially closed its “doors” and disappeared from the internet, and along with it went over 3,000 of my articles created over seven years.
Examiner.com is the reason I’m a writer now instead of a social worker. It was a cheeseball website, but it was MY cheeseball website.
I will miss it so! Check out my personal Stern Show blog at Not Howard Stern from now on….
New to my blog? Read about my Quest to Get 50 Rejection Letters in 2016 here
April was an absolute, utter, total disaster for my Rejection Project. Not only did I only received two measly rejections, something truly horrible happened.
I was accepted.
An extremely personal essay I wrote about pregnancy depression was accepted for publication at a GIGANTIC media outlet–Vice.com.
I wrote the piece last September in the height of my pregnancy depression despair. I was in such agony and rage about the lack of support available I decided that IIIIIII would be THE voice on the topic. But even as I wrote it, I whimpered: “No one’s going to publish it. No one’s going to read it. NO ONE.”
But they did. I don’t know how many people–but I know that Vice has 5 million follower of Facebook, and if even 1% of them read it, that’s 50,000 people. That’s a LOT.
This rejection situation is a disaster. At least I know for SURE that no one will ever publish my awesome novel. Both rejection letters I got this month were for my novel query letters–and both of them came within 24 hours of me sending out my request.
I’m sure getting published on Vice will be my one and only writing accomplishment EVER.
Here’s my article. Read it! Share it! I’m for sure going to send out some queries to turn it into a book that will hopefully get rejected many times over!
If you’re new to my blog, you can read about my 2016 Rejection Project here
It’s officially spring. Fresh flowers and rejection letters are a-bloomin’ everywhere.
March 2016 was an intense month for me. After the initial post-birth adrenaline wore off some time in late February, the realities of caring for a tiny, helpless human set in this month and my greatest creative fears were realized. While I did successfully accomplish keeping a small person alive, fed, cleaned, and emotionally nurtured, my creative writing accomplishments dwindled down to near nonexistence–as did my rejection letter pursuits. Three days before the end of the month, I decided to glance at my submission log to see how many I’d cranked out in March, thinking I was behind and had only submitted about ten.
I’d done TWO. I submitted TWO things.
And I’d received THREE rejection letters from things I’d submitted last month.
I looked down at the 10 pound, bald, pheromone secreting cutie pie suckling at my boob, and flashed forward to myself 30 years down the still living in the same one-bedroom apartment and sobbing “My career,…my CA-REEEEEEERRRR!!!” It was clearly all over for me. All those evil “friends” and “mental health clinicians” telling me to back off and take it easy in the wake of my newfound motherhood had won. I had stopped working my ass off on writing. I was officially just a milk machine/nanny and any hopes of having my work seen and praised by anyone besides my mom was out of the question.
I half-heartedly sent out one more novel query and received a form letter rejection the next day.
Three submissions. Four rejection letters, bringing my total number of “nos” for the year to seven. I was 25% of the way through the year and about 15% of the way to my goal. And I hadn’t written anything new in weeks.
I took a few valuable moments to stare into space and reflect on my lack of creative direction, my lack of inspiration, my lack of productivity, my lack of a sense of purpose, and my desire to beat anyone who tells me that “being a mother is the greatest purpose of all” with a baseball bat. Then I cried a little.
But April showers sometimes bring May flowers.
I’m working on two articles, a spec script and a punch up project now. And my goal is to submit 20 times this month.
And, yes, I know….I know…my baby is the cutest most precious thing on Earth. No,…seriously…I KNOW…
February was quite a month over at Rejection Central (my apartment). In the second month of my quest for a year filled with rejection, I’ve already DOUBLED my success rate. If you’re new on the scene, you can read about the 2016 Ultimate Rejection Project here
In January, I scored a piddly ONE rejection off the 15 submissions of articles, scripts, videos and pitches I sent out into the world. This month? I got TWO! But they weren’t just any two. This month, I hit the crown jewel of rejections. I got a “no” from the New York Times!!!
“But Liz,” you may be thinking. “Doesn’t pretty much EVERYONE get rejected by the New York Times?”
No dude. No, they don’t. To be IGNORED AND DELETED by the New York Times may be a commonplace occurrence, but to actually get rejected by them? It takes a lot of work. I submitted a super personal essay to the NYT’s parenting blog months ago. I got ignored. I sent it again. Ignored. Then I sent it a third time with a pushy note about how highly relevant it was and tying it to a popular hard news story. Then, I got back a heart-stopping, soul-inflating personal email back from the editor. She said “I’m thinking about this one.”
Ermagerd ermagerd erma-GERD!!!! It was a “maybe!!!!”I was up for consideration. By the fancy-pantsiest news source in the world. Cut to a full week of me dance-a-brating to Lady Gaga’s “Edge of Glory everywhere I went.
Aaaaaaaaaand then I got a “No.” It was a thoughtful “no” though. It was a “no” with an explanation and a pat on the back. “Keep writing,” she said.
Some very smart, fancy pants writers I know said I should consider it a huge accomplishment. And I do. I mean,…it’s not the accomplishment I WANTED, but I do have a crowning achievement for my Rejection Project just two months in. Plus, it inspired me to send my article to a slew of other places, which earned me ANOTHER very supportive rejection letter from an editor who said she’d love to use the story, but was quitting her job in a week so wouldn’t have a chance to feature it.
I made a commitment last month to attempt to double the amount of submissions that I made in an effort to up my rejection harvest, but one week into the month I got slightly sidetracked by giving birth….
In case you were about to tell me “that’s no excuse Liz!” I want you to know that the night I came home from the hospital I DID attempt to submit my drama pilot in the Sundance Episodic Storytelling Lab competition, but there was this…like…BABY in the house? And he was like….CRYING and stuff, so at 11:56 PM, 3 minutes before the deadline, I had to accept that there was no way in Hell I was going to be able to pull a descriptive essay on the story arc of the entire first season of my imagined series out of my butt. Sorry Redford. You’ll have to wait until next year.
I did send out a slew of query letters for my novel on the last day of the month, and I don’t want to spoil next months post, but lemme just say things are looking good when it comes to me getting smacked down in March!