Rejection

It is a hard pill to swallow. It is a concept us writers are all too familiar with. I don't think even the most polished, established writer ever gets used to it. How do you get used it? By the time you have delivered it, it has already become your baby. You have nourished and nurtured it for weeks on end before firing it into the cyber void, only for it to be neglected, ignored or out-and-out rejected with one cold phrase: we'll pass on this one. Though my favourite is: we can't give you the green light. Mmmm...kay..can I at least have the yellow light Mr. Editor?

By the end of next year, I expect to cover the walls of this room in its entirity with my rejection letters..I am sure these walls will wear it as a badge of honour. In all seriousness, the first letter of acceptance will be framed and hung right above my desk. Now, let's see who will have the first honour of being hung..Now that sounds inauspicious, nest pas? Being hung!

The superwoman who is my spouse, however, is every writer's dream come true. She is eternally supportive, resolute and high-spirited. If it weren't for her, I don't believe I could or would continue. I lack the stamina that she injects daily in my veins. I am very quick to descend into the self-doubt abyss. After all, each and every query you craft is an extension of yourself. It is hard not to take it personally. So, yes, damn it - I am fucking hurt. Now, where are my chocolate covered marijuana balls?