Rejection. No, I haven’t had any rejection letters lately. I should be so lucky…more waiting.
I’ve discovered another writer at work, a chica taking a writing-for-children course, a publisher of poetry and a sarcasmatrice. She said she was dreading the end of her writing course, because then she would be On Her Own and Have to Face Rejection. (She must not get her poetry rejected.) Whuh? This is a bad thing?
I congratulated her on the brave task of writing for children. I find it nearly impossible. So far…having Ray around for a couple of years might change that. I told her that I, personally, expect to be rejected at this point. Although I did nearly faint when the Weird Tales SASE came back, because it was a little thicker than it should have been. But that’s immaterial. Rejection is average. Success is a form rejection letter or better. You have to define your short-term goals in a practical way. Rejection–nah, the fear of rejection–used to tear me down, too. Something must have changed. I wonder what it was.