A toast to our flop era

October 2024 Collective Offering

My bbyz, tapping the heart button is a fabulous, totally free way of showing your support for these monthly mailouts (hint hint)

Hi tarot besties,

Welcome to October! Where the air gets a little crisper and the nights suddenly deeper.

I tend to find that October is a month of both immense social energy and also deeper, slower contemplation. The two may seem at odds, but that’s where the beauty of it lies for me. That… and the fact that it’s both my birthday month and spooky season!

May we all have space to hold equal and opposite truths this month,

Ilayda x

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Wtf are the cards saying?

I counted and in the last 3 months I've had over twenty rejections from voiceover agents (No Vacancy). Actually, to be precise, I've had three actual rejections where people have actively responded to my query emails with an explicit 'no', and then about 18 inquiry/pitch emails that have just been ignored… which in Performing Arts Land is accepted as a sort of awful shorthand for 'thanks but no thanks'. 

Given that rejection is such a universally lousy experience, you've probably guessed correctly I've found this experience pretty intense and shitty. What you might not have guessed though, is that I am also *relishing* it. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not some kind of masochist intent on feeling pain and embarrassment to get my kicks. I’m relishig it, because for me every rejection feels like a small win for all the inner work (The Hermit) I've committed myself to over the years. 

I've joked before about being a thirsty bitch who loves compliments and attention, which is basically code for: I have a fragile creative ego. It yearns to be loved and accepted but is also a scaredy-cat coward. Much of my twenties was spent avoiding the terrifying work of trying to find an agent, going on auditions, or sharing any of my writing. Instead of approaching agents straight out of drama school, I just applied for arts administrator roles in theatres (wtf). One time, I got an audition for a film, and said I couldn’t go because it clashed with my part-time, freelance job of teaching kids drama (srsly wtf). Another time, I was lucky enough to be cast as the lead in a new writing showcase, and invited precisely zero agents to come and see me in it (truly bonanza levels of W T F).

I have countless other examples like this from my twenties, and even my thirties. The result was not only career stagnation, but also the constant burden of isolation (The Hermit) - I felt cut off from both the art forms I claimed to love, and the communities who also shared my love (3 of Cups) of them. It turns out that if you want to work with other people to create things, or have people see the things you create, the disgusting uncomfortable process of being vulnerable and opening yourself up to rejection, is necessary. 

I wish I could say there was a breaking point that helped me realise my fear of being vulnerable - of being told 'no' in the face of sharing my true self with others - was holding me back. But there wasn't; this sort of knowledge is rarely delivered in the form of an ah-ha moment. It took years of therapy (6 of Swords), deep introspective work (The Hermit), and periods of respite away from it all where I simply focused on my loved ones (3 of Cups), to see the issue and begin addressing it. 

So here I am, the proud owner of over 20 back-to-back rejections, and counting. An unthinkable, unendurable concept for past-me. Yes, I have a bruised creative-ego, sore heart, and a niggle of fear that maybe I'll always be an outsider in this industry, but hot-damn I also feel ALIVE. Because the inner-work I've done has taught me that not trying - not approaching people, not writing, not sharing my work, not asking for help, not telling the truth about wanting to be seen - will not save me from a bruised creative ego, sore heart, and sadness at being an outsider. By not being vulnerable, I would still end up with all those things, and worse: I would have the awful, maddening knowledge that my own fear and cowardice was the main reason for it all. 

And so, this month, at the gentle behest of the cards, I'm revelling (3 of Cups) in my 20 rejections (No Vacancy), and maybe I'll rack up some more. I'm reminding myself of the things I love, and the things I've learned. I'm keeping my eyes focused on my own lantern instead of worrying about how other people's lanterns are looking (The Hermit). Who knows if I'll eventually get to toast in celebration of bonafide good news (3 of Cups) or not. Who knows if I'll find a helping hand along the way (6 of Swords), or if I'll have to be my own guide and leader the whole time. I have long since given up the notion that a definitive prize lies at the end of this process. For me, this is about honouring a deeper development that I've undergone. 

And I guess that's what the cards are asking of you, too: what personal development can you coax out of yourself this month? How can you embrace fear, or solitude, or transition? Whether you're stepping out of something familiar or heading toward something unknown, celebrating a big win or consoling yourself over a loss, remember that these things shape you in ways you can’t always see…You’re evolving, and that’s definitely worth toasting.

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