To be quite frank, my fiction and poetry submissions have been getting set backs, though sometimes I get a nice, thoughtful, considerate commendation. But the piece wasn’t picked up.
Considering the piece wouldn’t be worth much, I thought better of it. One of the ironies of submitting–I wasn’t going to become rich out of this piece.
However, we don’t like being rejected. Rejection is the way it goes they tell us writers–via twitter words of wisdom and the writer’s blogs.
It’s a wonder we get entangled in such a occupation that offers the world, but can then offer very little. You just don’t know when a shot to the heart will come. Nevertheless, I always think submitting pieces is worth a shot.
So with my current two submissions I have the feeling they will come to nothing as well. Or maybe a nice comment.
As they say, wish me luck. But I don’t believe in luck. Authors must face publishing reality.
Most times the publisher rejects your work, they must be right, to the degree that they think the work isn’t the right fit, more or less, or they have better work than your’s.
I’ve accepted this reality and don’t really mind what happens. Even if you think you’ve done your’re research on the publisher, there’s the possibility it still won’t fit. Don’t worry about it. Life is bigger than that. It doesn’t really matter.