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, I 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.

But 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.