Rejections and un-rejections

I have one publishing rejection to my name. I need more... I sent off a story to a zine last year about this time. It was the first short story I'd ever completed and workshopped. (I liked it at the time. I haven't read it in a year - I should go back and do so, and more than likely cringe.) I wasn't expecting it to be published, and since I forgot to mention in the query letter that I was going to submit in multiple places, I couldn't even do that. But when I got the rejection letter, it didn't hurt like I thought it would.

When I was getting together my MFA applications, I tried to see into the future. I pictured myself being elated over the acceptances, if there were any, and crushed by the rejections. MFAs are more personal than most grad school apps, with your work and, dare I be emo and say, soul out there to be judged. I knew I'd cry when I got turned down from schools.

But I have two rejections under my belt right now. And since it's nearing the end of March and six apps are still out there, I'm thinking I have six more coming. And I'm ok with that.

Of course, my first reply was an acceptance from a school that apparently really wants me to attend. I'm sure that helped soften the subsequent blows. But, overall, I handled such writing-related rejections very well.

A couple weeks ago I applied for a scholarship to the NY State Summer Writers' Institute. Today the winners were revealed - over 200 applied, and only 29 were granted scholarships.

I wasn't one of them. Ha! You thought that was my un-rejection, right? Wrong. It doesn't mean I'm rejected from the workshop, but I don't need to blow my money on the travel and tuition. So I'm ok with that. It was two weeks long, and now I can spend those two weeks working full-time, saving money, maybe taking a trip. I can push myself to write on my own schedule, which I desperately need to do. I need to crank out a few stories and start outlining a novel or thesis.

Because.

I got a TA position at GMU! Tuition waiver + stipend! SO excited, you have no clue. I'm going on a campus tour in April buuuut... I think this is it. Everything is falling into place. It feels good.

Checking In

I think I'm going to pass the "3 weeks with no home Internet" test. So far I've been doing just fine. Of course, I'm at work all day every day, with the Internet at my fingertips. Once school starts back up it might be harder to manage, since two of my professors use email fairly frequently. But for now, it's better for me to make a list of what I need to do online and just do it instead of meander around the Internet aimlessly.

The main reason I think I'm going to make it is that I'm being productive. To an extent. I'm writing! I'm designing! (I'm making a new header and sidebar stuff for the blog - it's so embarrassing to be a graphic designer and have such a plain layout!) I'm not really doing homework though, or even reading for school. Whoops. I blame that on my full days. When you don't get home til 10p, it's hard to focus on schoolwork.

I finished my latest story (the one that's been lifeless since October) Monday night, and edited it last night. I'm so proud to have 18 pages of a new creation - with the option to make it longer! I was proud of it, then when I let my mom read it to correct any medical slip-ups, I hated it. Mom and I picked it apart, and I was groaning about all I'd have to add in to make it circular. It's funny, because Mom brought up a few things I figured classmates would jump on. So I probably should correct them now, but...eh. It's technically still my first draft.

Dad, on the other hand, loved it. He raved about it, he said he wouldn't change a thing. Said it was better than some of the stuff he reads in anthologies. This, to me, means the world. My dad is a writer himself, and a very big reader. Non-fiction and capital L Literature reader. A Classics connoisseur. My dad is one who is always proud of my achievements, but doesn't always love my stories. I don't think he's ever raved about one in a way remotely close to this. He said my last story was "Guh-reat!" (I wish you could hear my dad's inflection on the word...) He's offered me suggestions on a few, flat out said he didn't get a couple, and never said a single word about one - I'm sure he was following the "If you can't say something nice" rule. So I'm pretty damn pleased with this story. I don't think I'll ever love my stories, and I know this one is far from done, and surely it'll be ripped apart in workshop, but who cares? My dad loved it.

if I could just rewind

God bless yoga. Bless my yoga instructor and the scenarios she speaks in the dark to take us away from the cold, dirty linoleum into the deep sea, or the open sky. We're not supposed to think during deep relaxation, but I've found that, as hard as I may try, I can't keep thoughts from flitting into my overactive brain. I used to find it annoying, listening to everyone's rhythmic breathing around me while all I could think about was the clump of thread on the carpet that I step over instead of pick up. (You think I'm joking...)

But tonight, tonight, my friends, it paid off! I have the best little brain that took three words my instructor said and that little clump of thread from the carpet and started weaving a story. I thought about it as I drove home, going a new way, a longer way, so the idea could turn over and over. I thought about it in the shower, where sentences effortlessly came to me until I ran to the laptop, hair dripping down my back, and started to get it down.

It's amazing. Well, the story might not be perfection, and I'm sure it'll be ripped apart in workshop. But I have something new to workshop! I have something that just came to me in one fell swoop, like it did last summer when I felt on top of the (writing) world! This feeling... this is the one I wish for when I can't make myself write a word of my own, or read one of someone else's. This is the mood that is best for me. I couldn't be happier.

It just helps that I had the best day at work, and a great (knock on wood!) phone interview.

It doesn't help, however, that my two midterms are tomorrow, and I am still at square one. Or, hardly thinking about square one. How can I, with this story dying to get out?! Priorities. I think they're important.