Just heard word that the very cool lit mag, Redheaded Stepchild, has accepted one of my favorite poems, “the scent on my wrist means” for an upcoming issue! I’m so excited — as I’m sure I’ve mentioned, poetry is really really hard for me, so any time I get an acceptance, I tend to jump up and down a lot and slur my words.
The even cooler thing is that the editors so far have been fantastic, and kind, and offered me a great suggestion for editing the piece. I love, love, love editors like that. Woowoo! I’ll let you know once it hits the streets, of course.
And, as a small segue: I realized that I sent off my hundredth submission today. Meaning, since I started my return to focusing on creative work again — which was on May 1st of this year, after about a year-long hiatus — I have submitted 100 poems, essays, stories and other things. In five and a half months. That’s… wow… a lot. Especially since I barely sent anything out at all in September, due to moving back to the States and what not. (Don’t let me fool you too much, though, some are duplicates, either ones that got rejected the first time or that I sent off to markets that take reprints).
Thought you’d like to take a look at the general statistics so far:
SUBMISSIONS TOTAL: 100
STILL OUT: All the rest
So, I’m at about a 50-50 split, which isn’t too bad considering that in most of the poetry submissions, you submit five poems and they might, if you’re lucky, they say yes to one of those (my poetry rejections number 14, so just over half of the total, and the rest are a mix of horror, essays and erotica).
You can, of course, see my entire submission, rejection and acceptance tracker online. I do this because I like to embarrass myself, I suppose, but also because I think it’s healthy for new — and even experienced — writers to remember that we all get rejected. A lot, in fact, and that rejection is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just part of the process. I think that the only thing to be ashamed of is if you let it get to you so much that you stop writing and submitting. (Inject lecture and guilt stick here. Now, go write something and send it off. You. Yes, you!).
Kiss kiss bang bang, s.
PPS — Still plugging away on my month-early NANOWRIMO. I’m a little behind, but who cares? I’m still doing it.