Nov 05 2008
One of those days…
As a writer, there are certain things you’re forced to succumb to on a daily basis, the alpha dog being the indiscriminate… the hit-and-run form rejection letter. It slithers in virtually undetected and like an ominous torment, it postal-punches you square between the eyes with its buried supremacy. In the end, I guess it’s worth it because there’s something debonair about standing in a bookstore among the sea of tomes, inhaling the sound of all that sweet literature… knowing my small but significant writing wave belongs there.
Metaphorical titles, well-thought covers, and secret lives, alongside that omniscient kingdom of words… somehow, someday.
I keep reminding myself that rejection (such a hideous word) is not only inevitable, as is my surly façade glowering back at those damn SASE, but it’s also purely subjective, or so they claim. Then again, I always wonder why it feels so critical… terminal… palpable. But in light of the proverbial rejection fact, it means I’m still in the game, I’m fully exposed. And with a few things on the vanguard, I’m determined that one day I’ll get there and finally have my cake and eat it too.
Right now, I’ll have to suffice with cookies.
