An email arrives from the literary journal that I submitted work to. Anticipation wraps around my chest like a boa constrictor, and holds its position. Don’t get excited – I tell myself. But I do anyway.
“Dear Red: We’re sorry…” The rejection assaults my hard work, leaving me limp before my computer screen. The boa constrictor releases its grip and slithers away with my confidence.
Each rejection notices sings at me–in the voice of Linda Ronstadt, “You’re no good, you’re no good, you’re no good. Baby, you’re no good… I gonna say it again!”
Most new authors are met with resistance from publishers. They’re rejected over and over again at first, and I’ve made peace with that. Being rejected doesn’t knock me to the ground any more, but it’s still a smack to the face.
I crack my knuckles and prepare for my attempt to push through the resistance again. Eventually I’ll make it through without getting slapped around.