As a writer, I often strive to avoid clichés. However, there are times when they are just necessary. The title of this blog post was one of them.
I’ve gotten over 100 rejections since I started sending stories out to publishes, but last week, and the week before, the stream of rejections was more intense. It was dark, and wore away at the thick skin I thought I had grown. Every morning, I woke up to at least one rejection in my inbox, and saw at least one more before bed.
Last Friday, I had three in morning and two more before bed. One of them was for a story I had really thought was going to get accepted. My thick skin had been pierced. I thought I was doomed to never be published again. I thought my writing sucked. I was a failure.
Saturday morning, I woke up to not one, but two acceptances. The first was saying Centum Press had accepted a story to their 100 Tails Anthology. The other was from book publisher expressing interest in a children’s manuscript I had sent them. I was and still am off-the-wall excited. I haven’t gotten a contract yet, so I don’t want to share any details, but I’m too excited to not saying anything at all.
The sun was finally starting to rise.
I did get one rejection Saturday, but nothing Sunday. Monday had a stream of rejections, which were thankfully tempered by an acceptance to Sick Lit Magazine. Tuesday, there were no rejections at all. Just an acceptance to Ink in Thirds.
Today? One personal rejection with a sentence of feedback that will help me revise the story, and one form rejection.
Since school got out for the summer, I’ve been sending at least one submission a day, sometimes as many as five. I’ve been constantly writing and revising. Whether its obsession or persistence, it’s working.
Things got darker for a little bit, but they the sun came up and washed away my doubts.
Jim Butcher, one of my favorite authors, said if your in a group being chased by a grizzly bear, you don’t have to be the fastest person, you just need to be faster than the guy next you. It may sound harsh, but the market is completely saturated with great stories. The writers who get overwhelmed by the rejections and slow down get eaten. The ones who keep writing and keep clicking that submit button get published.
I will not be eaten by the Grizzly of Despair.
I will keep running. I will keep writing. I will find homes for my stray stories!
And one of these days, I’ll actually get paid for them.
©2016 Sara Codair