I must have ten essays I could market, but I don't. Well, I do, but only intermittently. And it's not because I fear rejection. It may be simply because I'm lazy.
The situation was far different when I first began writing, most significantly because so many publications then didn't take email submissions. Then I was more focused, especially on the arrival of the mail carrier. I enjoyed writing a submission letter. Maybe the yang to my impatient yin enjoyed the anticipation.
But publication are on board now, and Crueleditor DeVille can zap you with a rejection before you've finished the pint of Cherry Garcia you bought to celebrate the upcoming publication credit.
Writing is a tough town. Just ask my friend Karen. An editor emailed Karen a rejection accompanied by one of the editor's own essays. "Why buy your stuff when I can write better?"
Karen was blue. Karen descended into a funk. Karen cast doubts on the editor's ancestry and threatened to cross state lines to inflict bodily harm.
"Blow it off," I emailed in my best supportive voice. "I can think of ten rejections better than that. Or maybe it's worse. Whatever. You know what I mean."
"Can't neither," she e-pouted.
- - "I could write better than this without using vowels."
- - "Was your monitor on when your wrote your essay?"
- - "I'm sorry. This doesn't reach our target reader. Most are can read."
- - "Rehearse this line: 'Do you want fries with that?'"
- - "Your comma count exceeds our quota."
- - "I doubt you have literary skills sufficient to write a check."
- - "I read this to my assistant, and he asked me if I were hallucinating."
- - "Stop your attempts to duplicate the 1000-monkeys-with-typerwriters experiment."
- - "Do you realize this piece has subtracted from the sum total of human knowledge?"
- - "Authorities notified. Your arrest imminent."