Rejections

I applied to nine grad schools. Here is my progression the past few weeks. Bear in mind that I'm being partially sarcastic and purposefully dramatic as it makes me feel better. There is no need to worry about my sanity (we writers have so little anyway, right?).


1st rejection:     Bummed. That school was my second choice. I'll admit it, I cried.

2nd rejection:    Bummed still, but the school wasn't high on my list. Oh well...seven more!

3rd rejection:    Oh man! That's 1/3 of my applications! I'm reluctant to give up hope yet.

4th rejection:    I'm worried there is a pattern emerging. Maybe my writing is too plain?

5th rejection:    Maybe I should have spent even more time on my applications. Like months instead of weeks?

6th rejection:    Maybe my writing sucks. Maybe I suck.

7th rejection:    Why don't they like me? Do I even like me? I'm almost completely convinced I'm not going to grad school, but darn that little bit of hope that's still alive.

8th rejection:    Wallowing in self-pity and doubt. That bottle of rum is looking mighty good right now.

9th rejection:    Well, there goes my savings, my self-esteem, and my will to live. It sucks to do something you love and no one else thinks you're good at it.

Three Kicks in the Pants

Monday was one of those trying days. I had spent a good part of Sunday sending out queries. I sent out six in total. Three with my picture book ms and three just the query alone.

Before the afternoon hit, I had one rejection. One or two sentences. Short and sweet (okay, not sweet, but not nasty). I let that one roll off me. I checked my email ten times more often. I found that I needed to find other things to do to keep myself busy.

An hour later, another rejection. This one was more in depth, but still, a rejection nonetheless. There was a little gem in that email, which I will return to later. But no matter the compliments (or suspected/hoped compliments) it was still a "no." I told myself it was to be expected. I even told myself that it was okay, I had other agents to query and that even though that agent was great, I could find more. I went back to work. I definitely needed to be distracted.

Then, thirty minutes later, the last rejection of the day came. At first, I let it roll off like the others. But I soon discovered it bothered me a lot more than I was letting on. I almost cried at work. I guess three was just my unlucky number.

I spent the night relaxing, doing nothing, playing games, ignoring my emails. Luckily, I have friends that know just the right things to say and do to help me out of my funk. I started feeling better on Tuesday, and was even able to re-look at the rejections and share them (something I've never done before) with my boyfriend.

Here's where I want others' opinions. One query seemed to have a compliment in it, but I'm afraid that it's just something everyone gets in their rejections from this agent. The agent and agency will be left out, but could you let me know what you think? (Yes, writer's need their almost-non-existent egos stroked often.)

"Thank you for your submission to Agency. However, I regret to inform you that Agent will not pursue representation. While your work certainly has merit, it simply isn't right for her list."

Bouncing Back

I've had some time to think about the two reviews. I've even gone through and identified all the spelling errors and just plain dumbness. There may be some truth to both of them. I mean, is it coincidence that both were bad reviews? That both people said they cared less about my characters and thought it didn't make sense? Or was it because they knew so little about anything because they only read the first chapter? Either way...I have some thinking to do with that manuscript. I haven't sent it out since that fateful day, and I'm not sure if I will continue to send it out or if I will work on it some first. It's so hard to decide, sometimes, what works better if you have two ways of starting a novel. I could just try writing the novel a new way and ask those who have read it which is better?

But the important part of this blog today is that I wrote something today. It was barely a page, but it was a page nonetheless. I don't know what novel I will work on next (Not sure I have the mental capacity to plan another novel vs. work on one already planned), but at least I'm that much closer to finishing the one I started in November. And to me, that's something.

Naive

I'm quickly spiraling into a dark place. Perhaps I finally have the answers I've been wondering for a few months. Am I worthy of being published? Of even having representation from an agent?

Apparently...the answer is no. Prose I thought was good, maybe even great in parts was described as: basic, stilted, elementary.

There's more to say, but I don't even have the heart to blog about it...