I mentioned last year that I submitted my first story for publication. I’ve been biting my nails since then, waiting for a response, a yay or nay. There was even a period of time where I was checking my email on my phone every five minutes, just to make sure I wouldn’t miss that message, and annoying everyone around me.
A few days ago, that rejection came. It was an overall polite message, a “thank you for submitting your story, but after consideration, we won’t be taking it. Thank you anyway” sort of message. It was what I had been waiting for, but once I had it, I wasn’t sure how to feel.
The first and predominant emotion was disappointment in myself. I worked so hard on my story, and it still wasn’t good enough for the press. All the time I’d spent researching, writing, rewriting, and sweating, and it still only got a “thank you for submitting”.
But the second I emotion I felt was relief. I wasn’t happy about being rejected, but it had happened. I was terrified about the idea since the moment I’d submitted the story, and now it had happened. And while yes, it sucked that the press wouldn’t be taking my story, it wasn’t as bad as I was afraid it would be. It was done and over with.
I might even print out the rejection and post it on my wall, just as a sort of merit badge on my writer vest. But first, I’m going to go back through my story, and then submit it to another press. No point in waiting around.