I got a rejection letter yesterday, from a literary magazine in Houston, that left me feeling shattered (because I have a complex when it comes to my writing — I think I’m better than I am).
I probably wouldn’t have been as upset as I was if it hadn’t happened after a exhausting round of anxiety (the kind that doesn’t make sense because it creeps up to tackle you without warning during the best part of the day).
But those little rejection letters — they’re sad little letters, waving aside something that somebody put so much of themselves into and sent off with such high flying hopes.
It’s all gray and gloomy outside, and I think that mood is sticking.
But I’ve almost finished my 4th book of the year (The Hobbit, by Tolkien). Thomas played me in chess (I’m rediscovering how much I love chess). Johnathan and Maria and I had a book-talk (and now I have to bring a stack of books from my bookshelf to lend). I found the on-campus chapel yesterday, and spent some time inside with worship music playing through my earbuds. I also found a steinway piano (upright, not grand) hiding behind some of the pillars. It’s kept locked, but I think I can convince the front desk guy to unlock it for me sometime. I got three drafts started for the blog (writing to instrumentals and classical — I’m rediscovering my love for that music genre, too).
Point: not everything is so terrible.