Rejection: Go Jump in the Lake

He is most powerful who has power over himself - Seneca the Younger

Yeah, but, writers must defer to the almighty, all powerful editor and his/her ability to give a thumbs up or down. Acceptances and rejections ebb and flow like the tides. I send out my goodies with lovely cover letters, praise for journals, and the abject desire to be selected for a publication.

However, too often it's a quick thanks, but no thanks.

Sometimes, it's nicer - I liked your poems, but not enough to publish them. They were a little too literal for my taste (but that is a matter of taste). I can accept that and it does give me something to work with in regards to my poetry.

For a recent flash - our first readers read your story with interest, but in the end didn't love it enough to send it to the second round. Well, darn. What if I begged and pleaded?

Getting published is a huge game. I have to improve my craft and provide the editor/reader with a treat. It's also subjective - a matter of timing. Hit the right person on the right day with the right piece for the mood.

I chuckled at a WSJ interview (4/29/11) with singer Grace Slick (Jefferson Airplane). In regards to American Idol she said she, "loves the show but no way could I be a judge. I have no middle ground. I'm a buzzer or a gong, far more negative than a Simon Cowell."

In another piece (3/16/11), Mr. Eddie Rabin has been playing piano for singing auditions for over thirty years. He said he can tell within three bars if a performer has what it takes. I"m sometimes tempted to say "Kid, you haven't got it." But it's not my place. And I figure they'll find out for themselves in a few years.

There are days when the rejections seem to pour in and I'm ready to jump in the lake. But then, sunshine and glory (the ding in the Inbox) announces an acceptance, and I'm once again validated as a writer. Type, type, type and roll press ... for a few more years.

Summer Slapdash

Get your ducks in a row. Keep all the balls in the air. In Memphis, in front of the arena, they have all the balls in a row. Currently, my ducks are waddling every which way, and any balls in the air are bouncing onto my head. I was never good at dodge ball - so hey world, hit me with your best shot.

August in Texas is HOT and all signs of organization slip away willy-nilly. The one thing I seem to do well is float in the pool. ( I do go to work and type accurately, but that's work, not play). Oh, I've been writing some and sending out some and getting rejected some, but it's not done in a pattern with purpose. Critiques with friends have gone by the wayside. My sense of publication urgency is sitting seaside at Ocean City, NJ on hiatus or chowing down on a Pudge's cheesesteak, or perhaps staring at the Gateway Arch in St.Louis at yet another angle.

I enjoy the August slip'n slide, the smell of chlorine, the slice of watermelon. However, my brain is starting to compartmentalize chores and tasks and goals for September. It's beginning to round up the balls, prepare to segue from summer slapdash into September short story success.

That still doesn't mean I'm any good at dodge ball.

Joanne

volley rejection

This writer did play at 3.0 level tennis, and every so often managed to fool her opponent with a wicked lefty return. Unfortunately, tennis elbow has cramped my style, and now just about the time I think about hitting a few, I get a serious twinge. So, I settle for watching tennis on television - does that count as exercise?

French Open this week (hence the French dictionary in the pic) and seeing the fall of Rafael Nadal (who practically was annointed the champ before playing) made me think again about rejection and frankly, the ups and downs of life.

Confidence in your game can equate to confidence in your writing. An overpowering serve or fancy footwork can keep you in the game, same with the pace of a plot and a charismatic protagonist. One clunker into the net can rattle you, same with a brutal rejection letter. Tentative strokes and a slumpy shoulder attitude will convince your opponent that you've lost your game. Unpolished manuscripts set the writer up for a fall.

Tennis is a game of skill, pacing, and fitness (and some luck). Writing is a game of verbal skills, plot pacing, and mental agility (plus some luck).

Game, set, match, plus a lot of sweat (and maybe a few tears, too). Write, re-write, mail (plus sweat and tears too).

This week we can also scream "Zut alors"!

Joanne