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fiction, Humor, literary journals, publication, rejection, short story, submission process, writing, writing for publication, writing process
It’s never the full-blown joy I expect when a short story is accepted for publication.
Even when the acceptance letter exceeds my wildest hope, like this last one:
“I’m stunned into dumbstruck awe by your piece, which I finished mere minutes ago. That’s how much time it took me to accept this, in the fervent hope that it has not been taken by another journal.”
“Stunned!” “Dumbstruck!” “Awe!”
I should be feasting on those words for weeks. I should be doing cartwheels down the hall. I should be. But I’m not.
I’m so used to opening my emails and finding a “thanks, no thanks” response to my submissions that acceptance and praise come with a jolt. Disbelief, even: Is this a joke?
Then a flood of conflicting emotions descend. Gratitude comes first, with relief tripping at her heels.
“Finally!” I think, gazing sternly at this wayward child of mine: “Took your sweet time getting that proposal, didn’t you girl? I thought you might be a spinster forever. I was ready to banish you to the dark corner of a bottom drawer. Boy, did you luck out!”
Eventually a giddy glee and an I-told-you-so sense of vindication take hold as I rush to tell my husband. Genuine happiness beams when I call my daughter, text my son. Bashful pride sneaks in when I post the event on Facebook or Twitter.
But I do all this in a hurry, because I know it won’t last. If I don’t grab it on the fly, I’ll lose it altogether. For the elation is rapidly deteriorating into an edgy uneasiness. A prick of panic. And gut-wrenching remorse when I realize: She’s gone! Out of my control. What have I done?
This is how the submission process works for me:
Rejection, rejection, rejection (repeat, ad nauseam)
Then whammy! Acceptance! Giddy glee! (Yay me!)
Followed by panic. Deflation. Despair.
So what’s wrong with me? Where’s the joy?
Well, I’ve given it some thought and think I’ve figured it out. It’s such a cliché, I almost hate to tell you, but here it is: She’s my baby. She’s leaving the nest.
Ready or not, she’s out there. Like it or not, I’m responsible for her.
The problem is: She’s never been well-behaved. I tried, but I couldn’t tame her completely. She was a “darling” that wouldn’t be killed. Now she’s on the loose. And O My God! What will people think when they get a good gander at her!
Did I push her out the door too soon? Should I have given her another rewrite? Or, did I sell her too cheap? Did she deserve more than what she got?
Should I have waited for a more prestigious, more adoring, more (fill in the blank) suitor?
How will she fare in his hands? Will he show her off? Twirl her around? Tell her she’s pretty?
Will anyone other than he actually read her? Or will he hide her away in some dusty warehouse, or send her to some virtual outpost where she’ll fade away in utter obscurity and ignominy?
Would she have been better off left in the drawer?
It’s about this time that I pull up her up on my computer screen and give her another read.
Yikes! This is awful! She’s a complete mess! What can I do? Withdraw her? Demand a divorce? Use a pseudonym?
Can I spruce her up in a hurry? Fresh lipstick, maybe? A new dress? At least straighten her hem, for God’s sake! She’s not ready for this. And neither am I, it appears.
The really sad thing is: She’s just a short story!
What will I do when my pride and joy, my novel, goes? Is this why I labor so long? Revise so endlessly? To keep her at home where she’s safe and warm and well-loved? Why strive to make her perfect only to lose her in the end?
It’s not like I can’t take rejection. I’ve become numb to rejection: “Oh, you again. What else is new?”
I read through a standard reject and taste a mild bitterness, a dash of sadness, sometimes a whiff of distain—what’s wrong with these idiots!
If there’s a bit of encouragement in the rejection letter, the taste is bittersweet.
If the encouragement is profuse or specific, I’m delighted. I call my daughter: “They really liked my story! The one they rejected. Isn’t that wonderful?”
So why am I not overblown with joy by high praise and acceptance?
Isn’t this what it’s all about? Publication? Praise? Recognition by my peers? The juried consensus that this story deserves to be read? Otherwise, why write?
But all I feel after the initial sugar high wears off is: Loss. Remorse. Resignation.
So back to work I go.
Butt in seat, open a new vein, let the words flow out.
I immerse myself in the writing. Let it wash over me. Carry me away.
And that’s when I find it. What I’ve been seeking all along.
Full-blown joy!
It’s right where I left it: In the writing.
congrats on your acceptance! hope you decide to share some of your past rejections with us at http://rejectionsrus.wordpress.com/
Thank you! I may do that.
Oh, my dear. Congratulations on the sale. You’re a wonderful writer, as I’ve said again and again. (But I know exactly how you feel.)
Thank you, Normandie! And thanks for sharing on FB!
Please let us know when and where this will be published. I enjoy everything you write, and love that you channel so much passion into your work!
That makes me happy to hear you say that. I started writing this post quite a while ago, so the story this refers to was published last fall. It’s so short I copied it into a post. You may remember it: “13 Ways of Looking at Dying”. Here’s the link
https://deborahbrasket.wordpress.com/2013/09/24/13-ways/
I could hug you for sharing these mixed emotions – from cartwheels down the hall to cartwheels down to hell.
As I was reading this very fine post, I’m thinking to myself – the joy is in the writing. It’s in the writing! LOOK TO THE WRITING! Then there it was, you knew it all along. 🙂
By the way, yes please, do let us know when and where this will be published. Congratulations!
Hi Maggie. I’m not surprised you were thinking that! I figured most of us writers know where the joy really resides–in the writing. The story was published last fall. You can read it at this link: https://deborahbrasket.wordpress.com/2013/09/24/13-ways/
wonderful, thanks! On my must read list for later today!
Congratulations, Deborah! I love this post; it’s how I also feel many days. When I first got my book in the mail, when I was first able to hold it in my hands, I didn’t feel joy. I felt absolute fear. I didn’t open it for two weeks. Cliche or not, it’s hard to let go. And, yes, every time I start to panic in this whole process, I think of my characters, of the writing still to come, and I’m happy.
I’m so glad I’m not alone in feeling this way! I imagine I’ll be the same way if (when!) my novel is published, afraid to open it. We writers are strange people, aren’t we? Sometimes I think that’s why I enjoy blogging so much. No submission process! No waiting, no rejection. Instant response from faithful readers. And the writing is never out of my control.
Such an insightful post! You have captured the conflict so well. It actually reminded me of a photo contest I entered, and the day I got the call telling me that my photo won grand prize out of over 30,000 entries. I was soooo elated, and yes, you’re right–instinctively I announced the great news to friends and family at breakneck speed to beat the inevitable crash of emotion and onset of panic that would surely set in after all the excitement. I mean, what do you mean, my photo is now being published in various places? But wait, who owns this photo now? What are people saying about it? etc etc etc. This is even more difficult with writing. I’ve had an invitation to include a written piece of mine in an anthology, but the editor wanted….”some small changes.” Already, “my baby” was being criticized and changed. (I declined to make the edits, btw, and therefore the piece remained unpublished…and “safe.”)
Thanks for this post. So right on point.
Thank you! It’s comforting to know others have experienced this as well. I hope you’ll be able to place your “baby” elsewhere without having to change it.
Congrats, Deborah! I also wanted to stop by and thank you for buying my friend Mary Coen’s book. She’s lovely and a fantastic writer.
You are welcome, Debra, and thank you.
Hope I’ll be able to read it in NZ…
So great to see you here, Jessie! You can read the story at this link: https://deborahbrasket.wordpress.com/2013/09/24/13-ways/
Oh and how rude of me — Congratulations!!!!
Not at all! 🙂
Congratulations, Deborah!!!! But oh good grief you sound just like I feel! I didn’t think anybody else felt like that . . . .
Hi Luanne. Strange there’s so many writers who have said the same thing! Glad to know I’m not alone feeling this way.
Not only have you deftly described the emotional process in letting go of one’s artistic creation…but the baby you ‘sold’ is powerfully, yet gently poignant. (I just read it.)
Lovely.
peace
Thank you, Laura. That means a lot to me.
Love this one. it’s great to see the other side of it, and I agree. I don’t know if acceptance into anything will make me as happy as I think it will… maybe because for me the happiness is in the pursuit. Lovely post. 🙂
That’s what I’ve discovered too–the happiness is in the pursuit, the journey as they say, the writing itself. Everything else pales in comparison, even the “getting published” part.
This post is so well written, Deborah. Of course your stories are like children. You put your heart and soul into raising them from words into full blown tales.
Congratulations!!
And I’m so glad that you shared the link … I went to read it and remembered how much I loved it when posted it.
Thank you, LB. It’s so nice to know you loved “my baby”!
This is so great Deborah. I’m so happy for you for getting your short story accepted, and I agree the joy is in the writing. So far that is the only joy I’ve known in the wriitng biz since I have only just recently gotten the courage and organization together to begin submitting my pieces to journals – just essays and poetry. Maybe some artwork too. I know to expect a lot of rejection. In fact, I don’t expect anything else. Just getting something “out the door” is kind of a rush for me. If I ever get the kind of wonderful acceptance letter you received I will consider it a sweet surprise.
Carol, I’m glad you are getting your “babies” our there too. Rejection comes with the territory, but thankfully the joy is in the writing, and no one can take that from us.
Congratulations on the short and surviving the emotional roller coaster, it’s an exhausting process, but worth it every time I am sure 🙂