Thursday, May 20, 2010

Sorry, I Have to Vent

So, I know that if I'm repeatedly getting personalized rejection letters from editors, with specific comments on what I'm doing right/wrong, then I'm very, very close to publication.
I know that the format these letters are taking ("Your dialogue is good, we love the characters, your style is good, you have a way with words, but...") is a good sign.
I know that it's really just a matter of making a few small corrections, or writing just one more story, or even just finding the right magazine.
I will even readily admit that some of the advice I've been given via rejection letter has been immensely helpful, and that I am grateful for it.
I know that every writer has to go through this; that On the Road was shopped around for seven years before someone agreed to publish it, and that one publisher actually had the balls to say, “Kerouac does have enormous talent of a very special kind. But this is not a well made novel, nor a saleable one nor even, I think, a good one. His frenetic and scrambling prose perfectly expresses the feverish travels, geographically and mentally, of the Beat Generation. But is that enough? I don’t think so.” (Article here).
I know that Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was rejected 121 times.
I also know that the reason I write is because it is a never-ending trip, that there is always somewhere else to go, and that even if I win like fourteen Nobel Prizes and the undying adoration of Oprah, I can always, always, always get better. I know that's what I love about it.
Really, I do know these things.


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