It happened! The dam of rejection has broken. A horror poem and a flash fiction piece will appear in Lonesome October Lit at different points this year. Acceptance alone is enough to celebrate, but there is another reason it feels so sweet.
A couple of years ago, I wrote about a painful rejection to a story I wrote. Afterward, I shelved the story and moved on. I couldn't submit it again. It felt tainted, like the worst story ever written by anyone. How could I even call myself a writer?
Early this month, I decided to submit my "nasty" story. The one with the "too practical" writing. And the editor enjoyed my story.
Everyone says art is subjective, a saying both frustrating and true. But comments can influence how artists see their work and (in some instances) themselves.
I'm glad I put my work away for a while instead of trashing it, and hope I can remember my "icky" soon-to-be-published story when I feel like giving up.
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