The randomness of rejections, awards, and long-term success

On Tuesday, A Brief History of Seven Killings, a historical fiction novel by Jamaican author Marlon James, was awarded the prestigious Man Booker Prize. Following this, The Guardian published an article about James’ journey as a writer. It turns out his first novel, John Crow’s Devil, was rejected 78 times before it was published in 2005 by Akashic Books.

The number of times James faced rejection may astonish some, but rejection—occasionally lots of it—is par for the course when it comes to traditional publishing. Even fiction that has changed the world and been awarded for its excellence is sometimes the same fiction that was once rejected by agents and publishers. Sometimes rejections lead to careful revisions, which can play a part in the future publication of a work, but that isn’t always the case.

Here, most will feel James has triumphed as a writer, despite initial setbacks. We love stories like his because they suggest success is a matter of hard work and perseverance. However, these stories are usually a little more complicated than that. Even among those who do persevere and receive accolades, the future is a giant question mark.

Strangely, rejections and awards say little about a work of fiction’s quality or long-term commercial success. While none of James’ works could be called “popular,” exactly—this is adult literary fiction set in Jamaica—all are read to some degree. His first novel holds a 3.72/5 rating on Goodreads and 4.5 stars on Amazon, meaning it’s been received rather well, at least by the online hive mind. By comparison, his novel that won the Man Booker Prize has a rating of 3.92 on Goodreads and 4 stars on Amazon. This makes it comparable to his first, according to readers, but perhaps less compelling than his most-read novel, The Book of Night Women, from 2009, which receives glowing reviews and 5-star ratings.

What gives? How can a writer who has produced such consistent work ever have been rejected 78 times?

The truth is that, while many rejections are doled out because the writing isn’t good enough, many others come about due to bad timing and subjective tastes. Some will say publishing is too concerned about the bottomline, that it passes on gems as it scrambles to make a buck or stay afloat, or that the system’s rigged in favor of certain groups. (I’m inclined to believe both of those things are true at least some of the time. Take the Man Booker Prize itself: Since 1969, 48 books have received the award, and 32—or 67 percent—were written by men. Most of those men are white, too, although this is mostly explained by how only English novels traditionally published in the UK are eligible.) And then there’s the matter of randomness. James, like all writers who’ve had their work rejected, will never know how many rejections came from people who were just sick and tired of diving into a nightmarish slush pile. The 78 rejections may seem like a lot, may seem unfair, but they can and do happen, and often for reasons beyond a writer’s control.

Not everyone has the stomach for repeated rejection—James nearly didn't—and far fewer find their efforts clearly rewarded later. Fortunately, writers now have some other legitimate options when it comes to publishing, but each continues to come with its own set of pros and cons. In our fast-paced world, I imagine the number of writers willing to suffer through ~80 rejections for one book is smaller than the number who would change course and try self-publishing—or give up. It’s worth considering what this means for everyone—writers, publishers, and readers, alike.

If James had given up on traditional publishing, as he almost did, he may or may not have found success by self-publishing his first book, and he may or may not have had better luck with traditionally publishing later works. Regardless, a few different choices on his part would have likely had mind-boggling ramifications. After all, the Man Booker Prize, like many awards for literature, is not open to self-published works. In James’ case, staying the course served him well. But will readers remember and read his work 50 years from now? We can’t know, and James may not care personally.

Marlon James and other successful authors who have tried, tried again—and eventually succeeded—are and should be an inspiration, but there’s no denying the amount of luck that is sometimes involved in the industry, either. It can be difficult, if not impossible, to know where your work will end up or how the choices you make now will affect it tomorrow. (You can bet the Man Booker was not on James’ mind when his first novel received rejection letter #40.) As always, your desire to be a writer should come first from your love of writing.