If you’re new to my blog, you can read about my 2016 Rejection Project here
It’s officially spring. Fresh flowers and rejection letters are a-bloomin’ everywhere.
March 2016 was an intense month for me. After the initial post-birth adrenaline wore off some time in late February, the realities of caring for a tiny, helpless human set in this month and my greatest creative fears were realized. While I did successfully accomplish keeping a small person alive, fed, cleaned, and emotionally nurtured, my creative writing accomplishments dwindled down to near nonexistence–as did my rejection letter pursuits. Three days before the end of the month, I decided to glance at my submission log to see how many I’d cranked out in March, thinking I was behind and had only submitted about ten.
I’d done TWO. I submitted TWO things.
And I’d received THREE rejection letters from things I’d submitted last month.
I looked down at the 10 pound, bald, pheromone secreting cutie pie suckling at my boob, and flashed forward to myself 30 years down the still living in the same one-bedroom apartment and sobbing “My career,…my CA-REEEEEEERRRR!!!” It was clearly all over for me. All those evil “friends” and “mental health clinicians” telling me to back off and take it easy in the wake of my newfound motherhood had won. I had stopped working my ass off on writing. I was officially just a milk machine/nanny and any hopes of having my work seen and praised by anyone besides my mom was out of the question.
I half-heartedly sent out one more novel query and received a form letter rejection the next day.
Three submissions. Four rejection letters, bringing my total number of “nos” for the year to seven. I was 25% of the way through the year and about 15% of the way to my goal. And I hadn’t written anything new in weeks.
I took a few valuable moments to stare into space and reflect on my lack of creative direction, my lack of inspiration, my lack of productivity, my lack of a sense of purpose, and my desire to beat anyone who tells me that “being a mother is the greatest purpose of all” with a baseball bat. Then I cried a little.
But April showers sometimes bring May flowers.
I’m working on two articles, a spec script and a punch up project now. And my goal is to submit 20 times this month.
And, yes, I know….I know…my baby is the cutest most precious thing on Earth. No,…seriously…I KNOW…