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" In 1981, Clayton Anderson joined NASA as an intern. In 1983, he joined full time as an engineer. That same year, he put in his first of 15 applications to become an astronaut. He&amp;#039;s detailed his experiences in the space program in\u00A0The Ordinary Spaceman,\u00A0out now from the University of Nebraska Press. You can read our interview here.\u00A0In this exclusive excerpt, Anderson talks about going from another rejectee to sticking with it until he had\u00A0&amp;quot;the right stuff&amp;quot;:\u00A0 On Applying: The fact that I applied to become an astronaut fifteen times has not been lost on my friends, followers, or fans. Jokes and snide remarks have hinged upon the ugly truth that on fourteen of those fifteen attempts I was a complete and abysmal failure. As a matter of fact, there&amp;#039;s a NASA public service announcement highlighting how it took me fifteen tries. I like to cling to the reality that I can always say &amp;quot;better late than never,&amp;quot; but at this point it&amp;#039;s all academic.\u00A0 The process of applying to become a United States astronaut is actually quite simple. All a person has to do is head to the computer, call up an Internet search engine of choice, and type in the website www.usajobs.gov or http://astronauts.nasa.gov.\u00A0 Now, be forewarned. These websites are not for the faint of heart. After all, they come from a government entity. Yet with a little luck, entering the keywords &amp;quot;astronaut&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Houston TX&amp;quot;\u2014provided the federal government is actually looking for new astronauts\u2014 your search will lead you through the official process to put your name in the hat for (potential) astronaut selection.\u00A0 In the mid-eighties the application request cycle for astronaut hopefuls, comically shortened to &amp;quot;As-Hos,&amp;quot; occurred annually. Partly because of the successful launch and landing of the space shuttle Columbia and her crew of Commander John Young and pilot Bob Crippen, things were really picking up steam in April 1981.\u00A0 Three subsequent shuttle test flights (STS 2\u20134, again all highly successful) had the shuttle program managers salivating over the &amp;quot;operational potential&amp;quot; of a fleet of four space &amp;quot;U-hauls,&amp;quot; that is, orbiters, sleek and beautiful in simple white-and-black, ferrying humans and cargo satellites to and from low-earth-orbit (LEO). The need for new astronauts to serve as crews was keen, and the selection office was not lacking for dedicated young Americans waiting to step up and begin the greatest job in the universe.\u00A0 Having decided that I met all the initial qualifications, in late 1983 I decided to submit my very first application. As I&amp;#039;m sure most applicants do, I thought I would only need one (insert laughs here). Now I just had to figure out how to navigate the application process. First I had to acquire the physical application forms and relevant process information. While not as simple as logging on to your computer, in 1983 a properly addressed, stamped envelope with a personal request would do the trick.\u00A0 My inquiry produced a fourfold brochure adorned with the NASA &amp;quot;worm&amp;quot; logo (used predominantly in the eighties until the return of the NASA &amp;quot;meatball&amp;quot;). Entitled Announcement for Mission Specialist and Pilot Astronaut Candidates, it covered everything required to educate a potential applicant on the astronaut candidate program. Following a detailed description of the space shuttle program, it laid out the expected duties of an astronaut mission specialist who, working with the commander and pilot, would have overall responsibility for the coordination of shuttle operations in the areas of crew activity planning, consumables usage, and experiment and payload operations. He or she would be required to have a detailed knowledge of shuttle systems, as well as detailed knowledge of the operational characteristics, mission requirements and objectives, and supporting systems and equipment for each of the experiments to be conducted on their assigned missions. Mission specialists would perform extravehicular activities (go on spacewalks) and payload handling using the remote manipulator system (fly the robotic arm), as well as perform or assist in specific experiment operations. (There was no mention of a space station during those times; it wouldn&amp;#039;t enter the game for several more years.) Pay and benefits were outlined as well, but I could not have cared less what it paid or what the benefits were. I wanted to be an astronaut!  On the First Application: It really got interesting when you reached the sections calling for work experience and education. Using a typewriter on the standard form&amp;#039;s tiny data fields did not leave room for details. It wasn&amp;#039;t until much later in my &amp;quot;application career&amp;quot; that I learned what a &amp;quot;supplemental&amp;quot; application really was.\u00A0 My work experience was limited at that point (less than a year on the job), almost two if I counted my summer internships. I could only hope that my degrees in physics (BS from Hastings College) and aerospace engineering (MS, Iowa State University) would hold up reasonably well against the expected deluge of PhDs from my competition.\u00A0 From the various designations of special skills, accomplishments, and awards, all the way to references, my app was a crap shoot. I had no idea whether anything I had accomplished thus far in my career could or would stand up to anyone else&amp;#039;s. Honestly, I knew I had no chance in hell of being selected on my first submittal. I didn&amp;#039;t kid myself; I knew it would be a long, long time before I even got a sniff from the committee.  On Waiting:\u00A0 I am often asked if the process of applying to become an astronaut is hard. My answer is easy: Nope. I would simply label it as time consuming. The basic requirements asked only for submittal of the standard government employment form, properly filled out, with three references. There&amp;#039;s some medical stuff to get through, but basically that&amp;#039;s it. Sign your John Hancock, date it, pop it in the mailbox, and off it goes to the Johnson Space Center mailroom by way of the U.S. Postal Service, perhaps to languish in someone&amp;#039;s in-box for eternity. Then, with your fingers and toes tightly crossed, wait, wait, and wait some more!\u00A0 Positive receipt of your hard work comes in the form of a confirmation note, returned with a loving and personal message: &amp;quot;You will be notified as soon as possible of any determination concerning your application.&amp;quot; Ugh, more waiting.\u00A0 When the time finally comes and your submittal is received, reviewed, and deemed &amp;quot;viable&amp;quot; by the review committee, things get more interesting. The review committee is not really about selection, it is about reviewing thousands of qualified potentials and paring that number down to something manageable.\u00A0 A hand-chosen group of veteran astronauts determine if a PhD is better than no PhD, military jet pilots are better than non-military jet pilots, and whether a specific institution of higher learning really matters.\u00A0 So how did I get selected? Beats the hell outta me! For most of us wannabes, multiple submittals are required. But the hardest part is putting together all the information required for your first application. Digging up details of previous residences, finding and securing copies of all relevant high school and college transcripts, figuring out who to use as your references\u2014those are the things that take the most time. Once you have completed all that, the rest is simple.\u00A0 The Astronaut Selection Office asks that you update your information annually. So for most folks, once your basic info is complete, you just add the things you deem relevant since your previous application.\u00A0 As recently as 2013, Duane Ross shared some key information during a briefing to astronaut hopefuls about the current state of the astronaut selection process, and how, based on his thirty-seven years of experience, it has changed. With the space shuttle program complete and commercial space companies emerging, the search for U.S. astronauts now focuses on long-duration space travel. Historically, not including the statistics from the 2013 selection, some 50,758 people have applied for the position of astronaut, beginning with the very first class of 1959. Three hundred and thirty-eight NASA (U.S.) astronauts have been selected throughout the years, and an applicant has a 0.6 percent chance of being selected. Statistics for non-pilots selected from civilian life showed 39 percent completed a master&amp;#039;s degree and 38 percent achieved their PhD.\u00A0 In the &amp;quot;selected as pilots&amp;quot; category, 53 percent had a master&amp;#039;s degree and 43 percent had only a bachelor&amp;#039;s degree.\u00A0 In total, nearly half the astronauts selected had a master&amp;#039;s degree (46 percent), challenging the long-existing notion that a PhD is required in order to stand a good chance of being selected. A nontechnical bachelor&amp;#039;s degree is essentially useless, suggesting that a candidate pursue a higher-level degree in a field qualifying for &amp;quot;desired astronaut selection.&amp;quot; \u2026 Over the thirteen-plus years I was updating my application, I figured things were going to have to change for me to be considered. With the selection office providing almost no feedback, it was difficult to know how to change my &amp;quot;relevance&amp;quot; in the eyes of the committee.\u00A0 Some things were easy (albeit costly). For example, many applicants go off and get their private pilot&amp;#039;s license. Others learn to scuba dive. Still others go so far as to learn how to jump out of airplanes or climb the world&amp;#039;s highest peaks. All noble endeavors, they serve the same purpose\u2014they show the Astronaut Selection Office that\u00A0  (a) You are trying to better yourself, (b) You are not adverse to learning new skills, (c) You are aware of many of the skills required of a new (or old) astronaut, and (d) You are not afraid to try anything.  With encouragement from Susan, I followed that path. We got our scuba certifications together\u2014on the same weekend we also became pregnant with our son, Cole (okay, the significance of the two events occurring on the same weekend is minimal, but it does show that we both have incredible stamina).   I worked hard to complete the requirements for obtaining my visual flight rating (VFR), the ticket for flying single-engine aircraft. Eventually, I even decided to take a new job at JSC, becoming the manager of the Emergency Operations Center.   Because most of the applicants were doing these same types of things, or had already done them, I doubted they would set me apart from the rest of the field. I needed something unique.   By year thirteen, Susan and I had pretty much given up. With nary a hint that they were taking my application seriously, we journeyed to Seattle, Washington, to visit friends and look for job opportunities. Upon our return, unsure of our next move, I was surprised to receive a phone call from Duane Ross. He needed to know my availability for participating as a member of the fifth group of astronaut candidates for the class of 1996.   My flame burned anew. Sorry, Seattle!   On a near miss:   My astronaut-referee analogy at the interview was good, but not good enough. I didn&amp;#039;t feel too depressed after getting yet another rejection note from NASA. I was pretty much used to it. But this time I didn&amp;#039;t just get a postcard, I got a real letter.   Received on May 7, 1996, Duane Ross thanked me for trying and told me that twenty-five mission specialists and ten pilots had been selected from over twenty-four hundred applicants. He said the competition was keen and the limited number of slots precluded highly qualified candidates like me from being chosen. I was highly qualified. I had a chance!   The letter gave me a feeling of hope. I had made it to the interview round and at least had a chance to present myself to the selection board. This time, however, I figured that since most applicants receive postcards, a letter sent on stationary meant something. I had more work to do.   I waited two more years to receive another interview. This time I had more experience on my side, and even better, I had a plan.   Feedback solicited from my first interview let me know the selection committee had concerns with my technical knowledge and skills. Finding myself seated once again at their conference table in 1998, I focused first on sharing my technical accomplishments from a fifteen-year career as an engineer. But what I think pushed them over to my side was the gist of my closing statement.   I referred to the annual automobile issue of Consumer Reports and its rating of cars for the model year. To aid their readers in the quest to purchase new vehicles, the experts used three descriptors: highly recommended, not recommended, and insufficient data. These descriptors were key to my plan.   I proposed to the committee that each of them walk the grounds of JSC at random, stopping every person they encountered. Then, I suggested, they should ask that person if they knew or had worked with Clayton Anderson. More than 50 percent, I speculated, would respond in the affirmative. (I had been there a long time.)   At that point, I argued, actual data would be available to the committee, just like in the magazine. The individuals could be asked how they knew me, what kind of person they thought I was, did I work hard\u2014anything. They could ask if they thought I would make a good astronaut. Would they recommend me, not recommend me, or did they not have enough data to decide?   I concluded my remarks by telling the committee I had the one thing no one else could give them\u2014I was from Nebraska. When asked by Greg Hayes of Human Resources why they should pick someone from Nebraska, I calmly explained that being the first from the state would provide a wealth of new outreach possibilities, not to mention the fact that it would give Nebraska&amp;#039;s representatives in Congress a very specific reason to support the space program. Finally, pointing directly at committee member and veteran astronaut Steve Hawley, I flashed a quick smile and said, &amp;quot;Well, you picked a guy from Kansas, didn&amp;#039;t you?&amp;quot;   Sign me up, baby! I&amp;#039;m ready. To learn more about\u00A0Clayton Anderson, you can visit his\u00A0website,\u00A0or follow him on\u00A0Twitter\u00A0or\u00A0Facebook. &amp;quot;The Ordinary Spaceman&amp;quot; is available\u00A0here.\u00A0 "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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