So, I got notified today that the story I submitted to a regional publication has not been accepted for this year’s anthology. They thanked me for taking the time to send in my story, competition is always fierce, they hoped I would submit again next year, blah, blah, blah. At least they thanked me. That’s something anyway. That’s what I told myself as I vowed to never again pick up my proverbial pencil and pour my heart and soul out on these harsh, blank pages. (Well, that didn’t last long.)
I scraped my battered ego off the unforgiving floor (after succumbing to
a major tantrum some minor sniffling) and managed to soothe my fragile heart by doing the only thing one can when this sort of calamity befalls one ― twist it into something our cracked souls can stomach. I spent a few moments crying and tearing at my hair in thoughtful reflection and came to the only logical conclusion possible. These people, while I’m sure they are horrible lovely, just don’t get my sense of humor. They can’t appreciate my wry wit and luminous prose because the ignorant twits poor dears are clearly addled and not functioning with all their faculties intact.
Unfortunately, this line of reasoning isn’t holding up as well as it used to as I’ve had to convince myself of its truth many, many, many, many, (Did I mention many?) times. I suppose I could consider the alternative which is: throw in the towel. But I just keep picking myself up, dusting myself off and plunging head long into another project as even trying to imagine a life without writing is like trying to imagine a life without chocolate.
If you think about, life really is just one long, continuous series of rejection. It starts in the cradle when you cry and no one comes to give you that 47th pat on the back. Then there’s being snubbed in the sandbox, not getting picked for the team and losing out on that job to the person who had, like, experience. I’m not even going to mention the rejection-rife arena of love and relationships. It’s amazing any of us have any semblance of self-worth. Oh sure, we’re told how we handle these trials strengthens us but I’ve had it with all this character building. I’m ready for some meteoric triumph!
The truth is― and there is no way to sugar-coat it― rejection sucks. But pursing your passion involves risk and I guess if you can’t stand the heat, go inside your air conditioned cave. That doesn’t help at all but I think my bruised confidence would be greatly bolstered if you good, compassionate, discerning folks reading this blog post would give me a Like. Not only would you be doing a kind deed, you would be adding points to your bank in this karmic crapshoot called life where all we can hope for is that at the end of the day, we get more thumbs up than down.
If in good conscience you cannot give me that much needed cyber hug, don’t fret. I can get my kudos elsewhere if needs must . . .
. . .That’s what brownies are for.