As I continue exploring the world of the writer, and all the good aspects and the stressful ones (such as finding publications that suit my style) I’m becoming more and more acquainted with the bitterness of rejection.
You create something you think is wonderful. You’re finally happy with the words on the page, you think your ending is snappy, your characters lovable, your idea is unique as you can create. Perhaps this isn’t the best way to describe it, but for me, its as if each time I submit a piece of my writing to a publication I am offering a Valentine card to a potential lover. I subtly insert a piece of my heart, hoping that my card will be accepted. Then, when you get that “I’m sorry to inform you…” its as if something breaks inside.
It’s become easier overtime. At first, when I was first rejected it seriously cut my confidence as a writer. I even took a long hiatus, vowing to read more and study the craft of writing before trying again. It was a dark time, because I wasn’t writing at all. I had all these words and stories in my head and I was too afraid to write.
I’ve slowly come to the realization however, that I can’t let the fear rejection keep me from something that I love. There needs to be change of perception, I need to be able to at least treat rejection as a platonic friend; brush it off but still learn from the experience. When I reread my early work, I come to agree with whoever it was that rejected the piece. It’s not the best piece I’ve written. However, I recognize that life is an experience of growth. We age and we learn. I’m not sure what opportunities I will come across in the future, yet I know that my love of writing will never cease, and hopefully I will continue to grow as an artist.
Until I’ve reached my goals, I suppose I will have to work on my ego and take in the criticism and rejection, without letting it tear me apart.