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In a small way, I have to lean back here and say "What a night".
This evening I was the recipient of that staple of the writing life, the rejection letter; this one for "A Million Stories", from a magazine who for the sake of etiquette will remain unnamed (no sense saying who did and didn't reject me in my early career, at least until the tell-all memoir). It was good news, in the twisted way a rejection can be good news; they read all the way to the end of the story before they rejected it, which means I have promise. And I guess I do.
Of course, timing being what it is, tonight was also the night I had set to put the finishing touches on "Family Ties", my piece for the anthology whose exact name I may or may not be supposed to discuss. I saw the rejection in my inbox, and considered that maybe I shouldn't be making myself deal with writing tonight.
Except no. That's exactly what I should be doing after a rejection.
So I did; and the final fixes turned out to be exactly what I wanted. I see my influences in this story, but I also see me, maybe a little more so than I have in previous works. Will it make the cut? I don't know. But tonight I got 14 pages edited, and wrote a cordial cover letter, and got to mark one thing off the massive checklist of "To Write" and "To Edit" that hangs over by my bed. Up next is Not Providence in spades, and novel queries, and several pieces that have been gathering in my head since the invitation came through; I already started on "A Question of Faith" and felt liberated.
But for now? For now, I think I need some proto-celebratory booze.
Who wants Bushmill's?
This evening I was the recipient of that staple of the writing life, the rejection letter; this one for "A Million Stories", from a magazine who for the sake of etiquette will remain unnamed (no sense saying who did and didn't reject me in my early career, at least until the tell-all memoir). It was good news, in the twisted way a rejection can be good news; they read all the way to the end of the story before they rejected it, which means I have promise. And I guess I do.
Of course, timing being what it is, tonight was also the night I had set to put the finishing touches on "Family Ties", my piece for the anthology whose exact name I may or may not be supposed to discuss. I saw the rejection in my inbox, and considered that maybe I shouldn't be making myself deal with writing tonight.
Except no. That's exactly what I should be doing after a rejection.
So I did; and the final fixes turned out to be exactly what I wanted. I see my influences in this story, but I also see me, maybe a little more so than I have in previous works. Will it make the cut? I don't know. But tonight I got 14 pages edited, and wrote a cordial cover letter, and got to mark one thing off the massive checklist of "To Write" and "To Edit" that hangs over by my bed. Up next is Not Providence in spades, and novel queries, and several pieces that have been gathering in my head since the invitation came through; I already started on "A Question of Faith" and felt liberated.
But for now? For now, I think I need some proto-celebratory booze.
Who wants Bushmill's?
Labels: writing process
posted by Tyler at
9:31 PM
2 Comments:
Congrats--on getting your story read all the way to the end, and then continuing to make good progress after reading a rejection letter. That, among other signs, tells me you're going to make it.
@Corey: Thank you! Really, hearing things like this means a lot to a fella taking the first steps.
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