I am always surprised when I read that a writer knows
exactly how many rejections he has received. I wonder why one would want to rub
salt in the wound that occurs when the rejections arrive. I make note that the
journal has rejected my work, and then put the info away in my files. I have
two files in the drawer. One has all my acceptances and the other has
rejections. Those that come now by email get filed in my documents. I have no
idea how many times my work has been rejected.
Once a poem has been turned down a couple of times, I revise
it and send it out again to different publications. I have an idea of the number of publications I have because I list them on my
blog, but I have never counted them to make me feel good or bad. If I counted all
the rejections , I am sure I’d be unpleasantly surprised. Since I have no idea
of their number, I never think about it.
Part of my approach to life is making sure I don’t poke
sticks in my eyes anymore. Why torture myself when it is unnecessary and does
no one any good? Why would I lash myself with a big whip?
Instead of thinking of the negative, I glory in my acceptances
when they come and share them with friends that I know care about me. I think
it is best to celebrate our greatness every chance we get.
