Friday
You have these—don't you?—those days when writing has you whupped, when writing (both as process and product) has you remove your gloves: "No más. No más."
?
It's odd, after so many rejections, how one unexpectedly can be that last straw, the one that hurts. In those moments, instead of "ain't nothing but a thing," I find myself saying, "Oh, no!"I feel the full brunt of rejection, of not being wanted, again. I feel the submerged pain of that childhood chock-full of such moments. Wasn't this what writing was protecting me from?
?
Of course, this too shall pass—and within hours sometimes I'll be writing again, sending things out. These moments, though, confound me. Today is one of those days, a day I feel like I've lost something in the process, a day writing feels as if it is a work of uncreation. It feels as if all has been for naught. As if my faithfulness has been, all along, foolishness. Rats!
?
?
?
From Anne Willkomm
January 20, 2010 at 2:08 pm
Randall:
You have no idea how much I needed TODAY to hear that someone else, someone who has published a gazillion pieces of fiction, can feel that pain of rejection, feel that sting that settles. It makes those of us who are newer, less “out there” feel much better.
From Randall Brown
February 19, 2010 at 2:28 pm
Think of all the gazillion rejections on the way! Eek Gads!
From Digby Beaumont
January 23, 2010 at 9:05 am
Hey, Randall. Reading this post reminds me that, if we step back, it seems incredible, really, the power we grant to those editors we invite to pass judgement on our work.
From Randall Brown
February 19, 2010 at 2:27 pm
It is kind of crazy, isn’t it, Digby?
From Elaine
February 16, 2010 at 10:05 pm
I liked this post so much I have it on my facebook page.
Me too. And yet I persist in saturating the world with my little ‘inanities and profanities’. 🙂
From Randall Brown
February 18, 2010 at 7:39 pm
Thanks, Elaine. Yep.