I have to admit that I’ve been working real hard at my writing. Just not here on my blog. I had pieces that needed polishing up for submission. And they greatly benefited from the attention. Except I find the cover letter is hard, meaning, the actual submission. I haven’t admitted it but I received my first rejection right before Christmas. And rightly so, the piece wasn’t ready.
I realized afterwards, it was the best thing that could have happened. I should have sent a thank you note to the guy for being my first official editorial rejection. I lived to tell. My head didn’t explode. I did have a day or two when my husband asked if there was anything he could do. But I decided it didn’t mean I sucked after all.
The letting go is the hardest part. Just doing it anyway. Risking the inevitable rejection. If you do it enough times, you develop immunity to taking it personally. Because the people who succeed don’t get rejected less. They just persist more and increase their odds of yes.
I often think that my present piece is the best I will ever create. It’s an only child. All I’m capable of. Like when I attempt to pull an outfit together from my closet and I get compliments. I think these are the nicest pieces I own. It’s a one time deal. Until the next time I’m complimented and I realize I’ve got an entirely different outfit on.
I often choke on the not knowing how. Preventative medicine for progress. And these blogging and writing things are both completely in the realm of know nothingdom. But in my heart, I feel the necessity, the need, and the purpose. I finally put it out there and I’m not taking it back. And I noticed not all my pieces are great but they keep coming and I’ve heard they’re getting better.