This morning I woke up to a rejection letter.
It started out like this -
I hope you won't mind if I give you a pointer or two in rejecting your poem. My aim is to help."
The letter goes on to say I need to show, not tell. To read more. To get critiqued. To send more than just a single poem to an editor.
I read somewhere once that personalized rejections can be a good thing.
Somehow I'm not sure.
Personalized rejections are cruel. Form letter rejections don't examine you so closely.
This hurt me more because of how much I pored over this single 18 line poem. Perfecting it. Giving the right imagery. Like sculpting or painting. Except with words.
It just didn't seem right to receive something that shredded me to pieces like this rejection did. So knowing I had two copies of the same poem (one, a first draft; the other, many drafts later), I decided to take a look at what I sent...
I sent him a first draft.
After spending hours and hours pouring over this poem, only to send off my first draft.
I was relieved at first. I told myself this rejection wasn't for me. It was for a draft I never would've sent in the first place.
Initially, the wound from rejection faded. A few hours later though, I am troubled by it.
Not sure why. I did learn a few things -
1) Send several poems to a literal magazine instead of one (somehow I didn't think this was that important at first).
2) Always delete your first draft.
3) Double check every attachment you send out.
4) Rejection sucks. And to me, it's the hardest part of being a writer. And remember, it happens to all of us.
Oh well, time to pick myself up, brush myself off, and write again. It's what we always do, isn't it?
19 January 2014
Posted on 12:21 PM by Nicole Michelle | 5 comments
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