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| Actual rejection letter received. |
I’m in the
midst of a spree of people like my
stories! I’m getting at least to the last ring of consideration before the
rejection which helps buffer the blow. It means I’m working in the right
direction. But still, when that rejection comes, the third one in as many years
from the same playwright festival, it dampens the joy. I still drop into what am I doing wrong?
I have
received three story rejections in the last twenty-four hours and I’d be lying
if I said the rejection didn’t sting. Oh, it wounds. They were positive
rejections, as such a thing exists, encouraging me to try again. They liked my
stories. They held them longer for consideration. But ultimately, they were not
a good fit with the other selections made.
But there
are going to be people who don’t like my work. There are going to be people who
hate my voice and my message. What do you
do with that when you are made of so much mushy insides?
I accept the
rejection. I embrace it and understand that I am never going to be good enough
for everyone. It’s just true. So I don’t have to try to be. I just have to be
good enough for me. Trust me, no critic will ever be harder on my writing than
me.
It means I
have to be vigilant at shopping around for the right places for my voice. They’re
out there. I’m not going to give up. So don’t give up, either. You are the only
you in the world, with your tone of word and your point of view. If you don’t
tell your stories, who will?
