I had a shitty day.
Friday was one of those relentless days at work when everything seemed to demand my immediate attention. I spent the day putting out fires, moving from one situation to another, without a moment to catch my breath. In the middle of the chaos, I learned that my book proposal about The Paul Butterfield Blues Band’s East-West album had not been selected for the 33⅓ book series.
This particular rejection hurt. I have experienced plenty of rejection throughout my life, and it never gets easier. This one felt like a punch to the gut because I had poured my heart into writing about an album that changed my life. East-West helped shape my musical identity and opened my ears to possibilities I had never imagined. The proposal represented more than a potential book. It represented a deeply personal connection to music that continues to resonate within my soul.
As I worked through the disappointment, I began thinking about the possibilities that rejection can create. Perhaps rejection, as painful as it can be, opens unexpected space for reflection, experimentation, and creative renewal. My thoughts turned to Brian Wilson and one of my favorite albums, Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys.
Released in May 1966, Pet Sounds represented a remarkable creative leap for Brian Wilson. As the band’s principal composer and producer, Wilson invested his heart and imagination in reshaping what a pop album could become. He moved beyond the familiar Beach Boys themes of surfing, cars, and carefree youthful abandon to explore vulnerability, longing, love, and uncertainty. The result was an extraordinary collection of songs that challenged expectations.
Despite its artistic ambition, Pet Sounds peaked at number ten on the American album charts. That was certainly respectable, but it fell short of the commercial expectations surrounding one of America’s most successful groups. Some listeners were puzzled by the band’s new direction. Today, Pet Sounds is widely celebrated as one of the greatest albums ever recorded, but that recognition was not fully realized upon its initial release.
Brian Wilson did not allow the album’s disappointing American commercial performance to define his creative possibilities. He continued exploring, experimenting, and pushing the boundaries of popular music. His creative persistence helped produce one of the most remarkable singles of the 1960s.
“Good Vibrations” had its beginnings during the Pet Sounds sessions, but Wilson continued developing the song through an ambitious series of recording sessions. Working with different musicians, arrangements, and instrumental combinations, he created what he famously described as a “pocket symphony.” With lyrics completed by fellow Beach Boy Mike Love, “Good Vibrations” became a breathtaking example of what could happen when imagination refused to accept conventional limitations.
Released in October 1966, “Good Vibrations” reached number one on the American charts that December. Wilson had created something extraordinary by continuing to follow his creative instincts. Rather than retreating into familiar territory, he expanded his musical vision even further.
That vision led to SMiLE, an ambitious collaboration with lyricist Van Dyke Parks that promised to take The Beach Boys into another creative dimension. The original project was abandoned in 1967 amid personal, creative, and professional difficulties. Over the years, SMiLE became one of the most legendary unfinished albums in popular music history. In 2004, Wilson returned to the music and completed a new version as Brian Wilson Presents Smile.
There is something profoundly moving about that creative journey. A project that seemed lost for decades eventually found new life. The music had not lost its meaning simply because the original vision had gone unrealized. Sometimes creativity follows a different timeline than the one we imagine.
I would never compare my artistic abilities to the genius of Brian Wilson, but I do feel a sense of kinship with his creative persistence. My East-West proposal was rejected, but the work still matters to me. The ideas, research, memories, and personal connections remain. Perhaps they will find another home or take on a different form someday. I also remind myself that I have another book, Leadership Riffs, in progress with Dave Burgess Consulting, Inc. That opportunity is something for which I remain deeply grateful.
I continue writing daily blog posts, recording reels, developing podcasts, and working on my book because creating brings me joy and purpose. Still, I would be less than truthful if I pretended that the silence surrounding some of my work did not sting. It hurts when people whose work I have consistently supported rarely acknowledge or reciprocate that encouragement. I sometimes wonder whether my words and ideas are reaching anyone at all.
Yet I am learning that recognition and creative worth are not the same thing. A missing acknowledgment, an unanswered message, or a rejected proposal does not erase the value of the work. I cannot control who reads, listens, responds, or offers an opportunity. I can control my willingness to continue creating and sharing something meaningful with the world.
Rejection may actually provide an invitation to roam. It creates room to experiment, reconsider, revise, and discover possibilities that might otherwise remain unexplored. There is freedom in creating without the constant pressure to prove someone wrong or earn someone else’s approval. The work itself can become its own source of renewal.
Brian Wilson’s journey from Pet Sounds through “Good Vibrations” and SMiLE reminds me that creativity is rarely a straight line. There are disappointments, unexpected turns, unfinished projects, and moments when our best efforts do not receive the recognition we had hoped for. There are also discoveries waiting beyond those disappointments, provided we remain willing to explore.
Maybe the most important thing we can do after rejection is return to the studio. We do not necessarily need to recreate what was rejected or convince anyone that they made the wrong decision. We can simply return to the work we love, follow our curiosity, and discover what else is waiting inside us.
There may still be some good vibrations ahead.
