Words of Redemption

So, a little over a month ago, I submitted my first short story for publication. It wasn’t the first thing I’ve ever submitted, but I don’t really count getting a couple of Magnetic Poems¹ published in The National Library of Poetry when I was in High School as “real.” If you have ever heard of the NLP, you know what I mean. If not, follow the link, or just trust me when I say that I could have written something like this:

One Two

Buckle My Shoe

Three Four

Sadness.

And actually gotten it published in NLP.

But I digress… seriously. So much so, that I need to start over.

So, a little over a month ago, I submitted my first short story for publication. Since beginning my novel hiatus, I’ve gotten pretty hooked on short story writing and currently have about 6 stories in various stages of completion² and about another 7-8 in my head or on a scrap of paper somewhere.

Of the three submitted, there’s this one, “Until Durango,” which was submitted a month ago. Chronologically, it’s actually the second story I’ve written during my novel procrastination. My first “Recursion,” will be out for another month before I hear anything. The final of the three submitted was “A Person of No Consequence,” which is actually story number six on the list. For one reason or another, I finished it before 3-5.

Okay. wakey, wakey. Back to the actual post.

So I got an email yesterday. Not just any email. The dreaded rejection message:

Dear Brandon Satrom:

Thanks for sending “Until Durango.” However, it’s not quite right for the issue. I hope you have luck with it elsewhere.

All Best,

Editor Guy

Short, to the point, and perfectly polite.

But rejection sucks, doesn’t it? The letter might as well have said:

Dear Brandon Satrom:

Thanks for sending in that tripe you call a short story. I’d like to say I read it, but I only made it through five pages before I felt an irresistible urge to pin it to the wall and fill it with buckshot. Needless to say, we won’t be publishing your story, but I do plan to keep a copy by my nightstand should I ever find myself stricken with incurable insomnia. Please don’t submit this story anywhere else, irreparably damaging this one editor should be quite enough.

%@&!,

Editor Guy

Ever asked out or shown interest in someone, only to have them politely shoot you down? Ever applied for a job, only to be told “we’ve decided to go another way?” Ever tried to make a friend, only to discover that the person would rather you stay an acquaintance? Ever been to a new place with new people, only to be virtually ignored?

No matter the situation, and no matter the circumstance, have you ever walked out on that shaky and unstable limb, hopeful that it will both hold you up and give you the confidence to continue, only to fall on your ass?

Yeah. Me too. And not just in writing.

And that’s when I have remember to stop and learn from my rejection without allowing it to define me. Too often, I give it a megaphone and a leading role, when all it should get is a single stage direction. But when I stop and listen, that’s usually when God reminds me what matters.

This morning, he reminded me of this weekend, when Sarah was doing the first read on a story I had just finished.

She liked it. But that’s not what stood out to me.

Instead, it was when she said this:

“I can really tell that you’re becoming a better writer.”

And that’s all the affirmation I need for now.

That and Teddy, who’s words here always help me stand up, brush myself off and take up sword and shield again:

“It’s not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or when the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.” -Theodore Roosevelt

Here’s to failing while daring greatly!³

And here’s to you, in both victory and defeat, may you live to fight and write and be yourself another day!

- Brandon

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1. not really magnetic, but this is my term for poetry that consists almost entirely of interesting words and phrases, but which lacks depth or substance. My college-era journals have many such poems [↩]
2. 3 complete. 1 in final draft. 2 in first draft [↩]
3. It’s too early for a Pint, so consider this an imagined raised glass [↩]

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