Another day, another rejection. These are the days it never rains but it pours. There are a few journals I would like to be published in within Australia and yet again it’s another one gone. There was a time yet another rejection in such a dire point in my life would have floored me. But I’m clear-eyed, because I’m easy come, easy go. (If a little high, little low.) I’m just a writer. I don’t need sympathy. I don’t lack for resilience regarding the reception of my creative works these days. The show must go on and my smile still stays…but hope is this thing that builds my dreams, yet slips away. Oh but a story, dear universe, being accepted for publication would be infinitely welcome right now. But there’s no escape from reality. But I’m OK, I’m alright. Just here, reflecting on how one day, one time, it’d be nice if someone would just gimme the prize.
Writing is my one dream, but it’s a pursuit the end goal of which (being published) often depends entirely on the skills, abilities, tastes, inclinations, and opinions of others. These change like the wind, moving unseen between styles, themes and individual trend setters, and if I follow the wind, I am behind, and not borne up by it. If I try to predict where it will shift to next, I am invariably mistaken. But any way the wind blows, I carry on. All I can do is adjust my sails, edit my stories, go back to first principles, and try to ride the wild wind while hoping where I’m headed gets me somewhere. It’s just the waiting seems eternity…
When your plans go wrong and you turn out the light,
But inside of your mind you put up a fight.
Where are the answers that we’re all searching for?
There’s nothing in this world to be sure of anymore.
– Freddie Mercury & John Deacon.