Oh, literary rejections. Cue the heavy sigh. As someone very new to the publishing world (who went from fearing rejection to finally starting to submit in earnest in 2014), this is a topic that’s now frequently on my mind. So far, just a couple of months into expending real energy on journal submissions, I have learned two things: that I am more resilient than I expected, and that rejections still suck. Sometimes not very much, and sometimes a lot.
But this process, like most challenging things, has actually shown the proverbial silver lining. It feels fantastic to be focusing on the literary world again – something I haven’t spent much time on since college. I am discovering excellent journals, both online and through print subscriptions; I am reading compelling short works (a satisfaction in and of itself); and best of all, I don’t feel the nagging irritation that I’m ignoring one of my main life passions.
Oddly enough, all of this echoes a different challenge that I’ve encountered in recent years, one that has also revealed unexpected benefits: rehabilitating my marvelous and snuggly dog Jasper.