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When I began writing in 2007, the incredibly 1st piece I submitted was accepted to an anthology with a get in touch with for submissions for illness-themed pieces. Not only was it accepted, but at the writing center exactly where I took the memoir class in which I crafted the piece, two of the instructors had their essays accepted as effectively. So, the writing center decided to hold a reading. It was a snowy February evening and I pictured an empty space, but men and women kept pouring in till all the seats have been filled. After I study about my anorexia, I was surrounded by ladies from the audience wanting to inform me about their personal consuming issues or that of their youngsters.
Then the rejections began coming. They weren’t all rejections. Just the majority. I accepted the rejections as a way to make a thicker skin. I’d normally been told I was as well sensitive, that my tears came as well quickly, that I cowered in the face of confrontation.
Fifteen years later, my skin is as thick as an elephant’s hide. Until this year, when it cracked.
I wrote a piece titled “Measuring Sanity.” Some of my pals study it and gave it rave critiques. Not just mainly because they’re my pals. These are men and women I trust to be sincere with me about my writing. I submitted my “Measuring Sanity” to a respected literary journal exactly where the theme is illness and healing (not the similar 1 as in 2007). The piece got rejected, but the editors of this unique journal have a practice exactly where if the vote was close, they extend the courtesy of offering the notes created by their editorial board about it, as soon as they finish their production. They also invited me to resubmit the piece if I wanted to revise it primarily based on the editorial board’s notes.
It’s a lengthy wait as they only publish twice a year — in the Spring and the Fall. I worked diligently on revising “Measuring Sanity.” I didn’t revise it blindly, taking all their ideas. I took what I believed created sense and revised it according to my personal style and inventive inner voice.
I resubmitted it about a month ago. Yesterday “Measuring Sanity” was rejected once more and I got an identical e-mail, extending me the courtesy of offering the notes created by their editorial board about it, as soon as they finish their production.
It wouldn’t be so frustrating, but this is 1 of these 1-hit-wonder situations as the incredibly 1st piece I submitted to them in 2015, titled “Eight Months After a Suicide Attempt,” was accepted and I haven’t been in a position to crack the code given that.
I haven’t created up my thoughts if I’m going to revise and resubmit “Measuring Sanity” however a third time. Part of it depends on what the notes say. I may attempt submitting it elsewhere and see what takes place.
Typically I can take the rejection of my work in stride. The rejections of this 1 piece are acquiring to me. I’m taking them personally and I’m beginning to really feel as although I can not get this appropriate, regardless of how really hard I attempt. And it does not really feel great. If I do not attempt once more, I’ll really feel as although I’m providing up, but if I do attempt once more and get rejected I’ll really feel as although I came off as desperate.
I have a selection to make. But 1st I want to see their notes.
Thanks for reading. Andrea
Source: © Andrea Rosenhaft