I realize the reason I like blogging so much is because my blog publisher really likes all the things I have to say. I don't get rejection very often.
This morning I got this SASE back from my university's literary journal, Touchstones. I had submitted 7 small works of which I was moderately to greatly proud. The self-addressed stamped envelope had very pretty writing on the front (ahem, mine) but it looked much too clean, thin and hastily posted.
I smiled and said to myself, "Ah, my first rejection letter!"
Sure enough.
I permitted the smile to leave briefly, but ordered it back to work not a moment later.
I put the letter, the envelope I bought, the stamp I paid for, my handwriting, in that drawer of stuff you aren't sure what to do with but will worry about later.
But I won't worry about it later. I'll worry about the next one. It'll be bigger. When I send it, I will have shaky confidence. When the reply comes, it will hurt no matter the reply. You know, cry if you do, cry if you don't...or something like that.
It's humbling, to think you may have had at least one out of seven good ideas actually be good and to have another not think so. But, think of it as another form of rejection: you're just not what they're looking for; doesn't mean it's not good. It'll be good for someone, someday.
4 comments:
I used to submit to Touchstones when I went there until I realized that it's political more than anything. It's who you know on the writing staff not how good your work is.
Keep the smile. ;)
Sorry about them...for what it matters, I think you're great! Hopefully the world will figure that out sooner rather than later.a
"Jonathan Livingston Seagull will never make it as a paperback." From the publisher of a magazine refusing an offer to bid on the paperback rights to Richard Bach's best selling novel. Avon Books eventually bought those rights and sales totaled more than 7.25 million copies.
I got a rejection letter once. :-)
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