Yes, you read that correctly. No, I'm not having a mental breakdown. Rejection is inevitable in this business, and there's a reason I'm taking it in stride.
A piece of writing cannot be rejected unless it was submitted. Sounds silly, right? But that alone was enough for me to go so long without having to deal with rejection. Taking that step, sending it out, showing it to a publisher of any sort wasn't something I did.
It was too scary. My writing was not ready, and I was not ready.
Once I started writing this blog and daring to talk to people about my writing dreams, I was asked about submitting pieces and being rejected. I remembered that I had actually submitted a short story for publication a long time ago. About ten years ago. Maybe longer, but I won't age myself by confessing that much.
I'd forgotten about this because it was so quick. One story was sent, rejected, and abandoned. I got the editor's note back and decided the piece needed a ton more work, scuttled away, and never tried again. It became a black mark in my mind. A memory I'd tried to forget and apparently succeeded.
A lot has happened between then and now, yet my reaction could have been the same. For many wannabe authors, that is their sad truth. That is where and how they give up. Rejection is scary. No one enjoys it. It doesn't matter if it's for publication, asking for a date, or interviewing for a job. It hurts.
This time, I did not pause. I did not quit. I took the form letter, marked it on my tracker, and sent the story out to another publisher. This time, I felt a rush in picking up and pushing forward.
I once read about an author (whose name I cannot remember) who took each rejection they received, printed it out, and pinned it to a corkboard as a badge of honor. Over and over, they'd add to the pile until the acceptance letter came in. The acceptance letter was pinned to the top, and a new stack was started for another story. This was a reminder that they tried. That they did not give up and that, in time, they succeeded.
While I wouldn't want to waste that much paper, I appreciate the sentiment. This post is my metaphorical equivalent of pinning that first rejection to my corkboard. I'm proud to look at it. I'm proud knowing I tried and have tried again. They may pile up, but it's better than not trying at all. And, in time, I'll succeed.
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