- The volume of rejection emails from publishers and agents forces your email provider to suspend your account.
- The pile of hard-copy unpublished manuscripts on your desk falls over and crushes your cat.
- On your 54th birthday, your mother asks you if you’re ever going to make something of that masters in English you got in 1983.
- You’re the only person in your writing group who hasn’t had his/her third novel published. Or second. Or first.
- You measure success by the ratio of actual rejections by agents and publishers to no-response whatsoever.
- Your royalty checks fail to cover your checking account’s overdraft fees.
- You realize that three of your unpublished novels have the same ideas as A Time to Kill, Wool, and Fifty Shades of Grey.
- The rejected manuscript the UPS guy delivered was typed on the IBM Selectric you owned before you bought the 1999 iMac you use now.
- Your collection of rejection letters would paper the outside walls of the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum combined.
- A museum curator asks to use your early rejection letter for an exhibit on obsolete publishing models.
What signs and portents foretell self-publishing for you?