Rejection is not failure; it’s merely someone’s opinion (unknown)

In case you missed it, the reason I started my website and blogging short stories was to improve my writing. The end goal being to explore different avenues of writing and finish my first novel.

Since I had my son, and googled advice about how not to break him, my Facebook feed has been cluttered with sickly sweet, inspirational tales of motherhood. Or offering me articles like – 5 ways to love your kid to death – or – clear out the crap in your mind with this daily ritual. Apparently, we readers are suckers for a positive tale or a very good list. List making seems to be the big thing in web-land, but that’s way down my list (ironically) of things I enjoy in a good article.

I’m not quite sure how it happened but I had a go at writing short piece about the length of a baby’s memory compared to a toddler’s. I think maybe over exposure on my feed, and perhap too much time in the sun, I attempt to write a short piece in the aforementioned style.

I gave it a nifty title and hit submit to popular motherhood online magazine. A few I hours later I received a reply:

Thanks for your submission [it was shite], we’ll pass on this occasion. 

Now, I’m not at all bitter, although you’d be forgiven for thinking that given the tone of my post. One rejection is not going to put me off because it is a part of becoming a better writer/author. It is hard not to take it personally because you personally wrote it – well not you personally, I mean me personally. Anyway, I was a bit bummed initially but then the more I thought about it, the more I think they were right to decline. I had to remember they rejected it, not me and there is a difference.

Turns out that writing that kind of article/piece/style of story telling is not one that I feel particularly suited to or drawn to. In hindsight, it probably showed in the piece I submitted. I should have realised that if I don’t enjoy reading that sort of stuff then why on earth would I think that trying to write it would be any different?

If anyone is interested and wants to read my article (just for shits and giggles) then I’ll happily send it you. I’m quite at home with embarrassing myself. I once tried to climb over a fence, in front of a car full of boys, and ended up splitting the entire crotch of my jeans.

So, for me, for now, I’ll stop trying to re-bottle reality into a sugary feel good drink and I’ll get back to making stuff up instead.