"Well, they can't all be winners, kid."
How many times can a piece be rejected (before you call him a man)? Sorry. I just can't ask that question without humming the rest of the line.
My Starlings essay failed to win, place, or show in it's third competition. (To be fair, it got honorable mention the first time out.) It was a bummer of a way to start the day--and technically they emailed me late last night, so the day was shot before it started.
There are a few reasons why this shouldn't bug me too much. A) This particular contest had a theme which the starlings were a bit of a stretch for, at best. B) You're not supposed to let rejections get to you, unless the getting to you place is where all of your best work is wrought. C) I forget what C was for.
To help me over the drag of the "Thank you for your submission" letter, my friend Jeff sent me a link to this amazing piece: The Chair of Rejection, by Stacey Richter. It is one of those essays I want to remember. And one that I will revisit, and sit in, like the aforementioned chair.
Today I wrote a blog entry about beer and was a social media maven. I hate the word maven. Still studying astronomy, still taking small potshots at my column submission when I can.
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