Sometimes we need that reminder that we're not alone in this. That we need to keep trying.
A truly inspiring tale about rejection.
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Monday Madness: Nope, It Still Hurts
I can honestly say these past couple weeks have been a huge stress fest. I've had family problems and financial problems and educational problems and then . . .
A rejection letter.
I should be used to these by now, right? But nope, it still hurts. It still makes that tiny voice I usually ignore scream, "YOU SUCK. HAHAHAHA! You thought you could write. Well (rude gesture), sucker!"
And I'm beginning to worry that voice is never going to go away. No matter how many (whimper) rejections I get, no matter how much I should be used to it, there's still a part of me that's crushed. One more of my little candles goes out. And those things are buggers to light (especially if you're afraid of matches, like me).
I have a little bottle of hand sanitizer hanging on my purse that has my astrological sign (Cancer) with a few words that describe that sign: Loving, Emotional, Dependable, Protective. Of course, Bath and Body Works totally scammed the $1.50 out of me just because those words resonated (I never use hand sanitizer; give me soap and water any day). And each time I see it, I think, "Yep, I'm totally like that." And I don't think that's going to change.
So what does hand sanitizer have to do with rejections? Let's refer to word number two: Emotional. I FEEL EVERYTHING. Sometimes too much. Replace that word with "Sensitive" and you've got me also. I take the most impersonal of things personally. And even though I don't blame the editor for not liking my story, I cannot help but be devastated.
Okay, let's add another word to that hand sanitizer bottle: Perfectionist.
I am an achiever, so when I don't achieve, it cuts deep. It frustrates me. Depresses me. Ticks me off. (Look, there's the emotional side again.) So then I have to go to the story, gut it, string it up, and whip it until it wails what's wrong. And then I leave it to bleed while I work on another story.
But here's the revelation: I'm always going to be like this. The rejections will always hurt, and I'm always going to go on some sort of perfectionist, emotional rampage trying to figure out what I did wrong. BUT I want it to hurt. I want to feel. You know why?
Because it means I care.
I care deeply for every story I write. It's never going to be about writing for money or for publication or even for an editor's pleasure; it's always going to be writing for the sake of satisfying a thirst to tell a story, to create, to share. And that's all that matters.
A rejection letter.
I should be used to these by now, right? But nope, it still hurts. It still makes that tiny voice I usually ignore scream, "YOU SUCK. HAHAHAHA! You thought you could write. Well (rude gesture), sucker!"
And I'm beginning to worry that voice is never going to go away. No matter how many (whimper) rejections I get, no matter how much I should be used to it, there's still a part of me that's crushed. One more of my little candles goes out. And those things are buggers to light (especially if you're afraid of matches, like me).
So what does hand sanitizer have to do with rejections? Let's refer to word number two: Emotional. I FEEL EVERYTHING. Sometimes too much. Replace that word with "Sensitive" and you've got me also. I take the most impersonal of things personally. And even though I don't blame the editor for not liking my story, I cannot help but be devastated.
Okay, let's add another word to that hand sanitizer bottle: Perfectionist.
I am an achiever, so when I don't achieve, it cuts deep. It frustrates me. Depresses me. Ticks me off. (Look, there's the emotional side again.) So then I have to go to the story, gut it, string it up, and whip it until it wails what's wrong. And then I leave it to bleed while I work on another story.
But here's the revelation: I'm always going to be like this. The rejections will always hurt, and I'm always going to go on some sort of perfectionist, emotional rampage trying to figure out what I did wrong. BUT I want it to hurt. I want to feel. You know why?
Because it means I care.
I care deeply for every story I write. It's never going to be about writing for money or for publication or even for an editor's pleasure; it's always going to be writing for the sake of satisfying a thirst to tell a story, to create, to share. And that's all that matters.
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