MY ART BOOK REJECTION by Michael Corbin

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I’m sitting here at my desk, in my art-filled den, where I’ve just finished flipping through almost two years worth of work.The UPS guy delivered it about an hour ago. My complimentary copy of my own book, “ART IN KING SIZE BEDS: A COLLECTOR’S JOURNAL” (www.artinkingsizebeds.com). As I see it sitting atop a pile of other art books, I can only wonder, “Why did creating this simple, straightforward, little book about contemporary art take so long?”

The answer is also simple. Rejection.

When I started sending out manuscripts it was a great adventure. Doing something new in your life can bring you back from the brink. It erases the grayness of comfort and puts you RIGHT OUT THERE. You’ve talked the talk, now you’re walking the walk. When you embark on something new, like writing a book, you find out who your friends are almost instantly. It’s amazing. They either support you or they suddenly become distant and consider your dream a joke. In short, they reject you. I’m convinced that this is why a lot of people don’t follow their dreams. When you try to become one with your vision, it’s ultimately a solitary haul. No one can do it for you or with you, really. Loneliness can often be part of the equation.It’s the price you pay for reaching out and trying to find purpose in your life.

Nothing makes you feel more alone than rejection. Especially when something that you’ve poured your heart into gets rejected again and again and again. The sofa behind me is littered with piles of rejected manuscripts. There’s no mistaking rejection. Everyone recognizes it. Especially men. When a guy asks a woman out and she says no, it’s like getting one of those giant red circles with a diagonal line through it pasted on your forehead. “LOSER!” It’s like getting a manuscript that you know hasn’t even been looked at … returned.

One day, while I was visiting Indianapolis artist Nancy Kruse in her studio, I remember she said, “Don’t get discouraged!” As she said that, she walked over to her desk and picked up this book that listed the art shows from which she had been rejected. She showed me the list. At the time, I didn’t understand why she kept track of such things. Now, I do.As I sifted through my own rejection piles, I began to see silver linings in some of the letters from publishers.

I’ll quote a few:”…I like the concept of a book designed to make art moreaccessible and less intimidating…” says one.

“It’s an interesting idea, but I don’t think we could do it justice.” says another.

“You are clearly passionate about your proposal and the subject iswell-researched …” says yet another.

Another publisher said, “We have discussed it extensively and are very impressed with the subject matter…however…”

By the way, can we banish the word, “however”? However, I must say that these rejections and many others began to fuel my drive. Yes, rejection was painful and lonely and made me feel misunderstood, but rejection also gave me a sense of rage and made me more determined to get, “Art In King Size Beds: A Collector’s Journal,” published. Those silver linings provided some encouragement.

Finally, I decided that I had to just do it myself. Write it myself, publish it myself, hire the photographer myself, research marketing and promotion myself, just do it all myself. In the final analysis, you can blame other people, but it really all comes down to you. Yet,quite a few of the publishers seemed to like the manuscript. What was the problem? Ultimately, I’ve come to realize that there isn’t just ONE answer. Yes, art books are a tough market. No, I’m not an art scholar orcurator. Still, I’m holding onto the belief that there are people out there who want to relate to art in a new way. Aren’t you tired of walking into art museums and galleries and feeling so formal, stiff, intimidated, stupid, judged and snubbed? What is that about? This is ART people! We should be celebrating creativity and enjoying the fruits of intelligent vision, not walking away feeling cold, passionless and empty. How can you look at a James Rosenquist piece and not want to dance? Who cares if people see you showing emotion in the presence of a great painting! That’s what art is about. You know, some folks in the artworld could use a good, long enema.

Anyway, my book attempts to put fun and passion back into art from the collector’s point of view. If it doesn’t sell, it doesn’t sell. At least I’ve been reminded that you can not only survive rejection, but it can actually help you become one with your vision. That’s the art of living.

Rejection? Bring it on. Oh, but not today.