Lesser Known Rejection Stories

Four high-profile monarchs passed on the Bible before King James agreed to publish it. Now it’s the most widely read book in the world! It takes just one divinely appointed ruler who believes in your work.

Gretchen R. Kleenex got a D on a paper for her college geometric-engineering course called “The Perfect Size for a Facial Tissue—Also We Should Add Lotion.”

Little Debbie worked in the back of Big Deborah’s kitchen for years, using her free time to bake cakes and cookies with the preservative runoff from the inside of the oven and the expired contents of the front-office first-aid kit. One day, Big Deborah caught her in the act and said, “You’re wasting your time. People only want fresh baked goods made by adults. Go get a real, reliable job as a bread-slicer.” Moral: You can’t spell “preservatives” without all the letters in “persevere.”

Hammurabi got kicked out of Law Codes School and got rejected by multiple coveted carving-things-into-stone-slabs apprenticeships. Lesson: Get knocked down by a phallic rock seven times, stand up eight.

While all the other Sons of Liberty were dumping tea into Boston Harbor, Sam Adams dumped in a failed batch of his home-brewed beer. The next morning, more than two hundred fish were dead. Did he fail at making drinkable beer? Or succeed at making fish poison? It’s all about perspective.

Burt had failed at creating partnerships with dragonflies, cicadas, and hummingbirds before he got his first meeting with bees. Now they’re his bees! Remember, failures are not sinking stones, they’re stepping stones—like the kind you made for your grandmother’s garden when you were a kid by sticking your hands in wet plaster.

Vincent Elliot Hungry-Man once froze a batch of sloppy-joe meat wrong and killed an entire football team. Did he give up? No. Did he serve time? Also no. He was too busy serving his Hungry-Man Dinners. You are the waiter of your own destiny, and, yes, Life would like to hear the specials.

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt had to introduce himself to each person in his town thirty-seven times (very forgettable face) before he could honestly say that, whenever he goes out, the people always shout, “There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!” Trust the passion. Trust the process.

Orville Redenbacher got fired from his job as a Colonel Sanders impersonator and was so devastated that he burned down his house for the insurance money. A known hoarder, he had amassed enough ears of Indian corn that they filled an entire room. His house went up in flames, but his name went down in history.

Aesop didn’t get into the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Neither did Scheherazade. ♦