The Email

by | Feb 24, 2021 | 5 comments

I’ve just gotten an email. Hope fades like a rainbow as I scan to the part where they tell me that my story isn’t a good fit for the magazine and wish me luck on finding a home. This time, they’ve included reviewer feedback. I try downloading the attachment on my iPhone as I’m away from my laptop but it’s painfully slow, so I give up.

I don’t want to read these comments, partly because I dread discovering that I’ve done something really stupid, the recollection of which I’m trying to resist, but mostly because I fear that reading these comments may crush any lingering desire I have to write.

I know, I know—all about the gazillions of rejections Stephen King or J.K. Rowling (not comparing myself to them) got. You just have to persist. Rejection is part of the game. If you aren’t getting rejected, you’re not writing. I’m not trying to be a best-selling novelist, but I would be happier if my stories had a home.

I have been writing for 14 years, and I’m humble enough to know that I still have a lot to learn.

“Rejection is part of the game. If you aren’t getting rejected, you’re not writing.”

 

I have read dozens of books on writing techniques and on story and the hero’s journey—all written by the Greats. I have found the golden nuggets and tried incorporating them into my writing. I have attended writing workshops where we critiqued one another’s writing.

 

The net result of all this training is that I came to a point where I had read so much about writing, I couldn’t write anymore. The creative juice had evaporated. I was trying to be a writer and a censor, which doesn’t work.

 

Walking a thin line

On the one hand, I must write and write and get better at my craft. One great inspiration for just that has been Dorothea Brande’s book Becoming a Writer. Her basic premise is that writers often make the mistake of putting the focus on learning the craft of writing long before we ever become writers—you know those people who sit down and write. I took this to heart and for several months did morning writings just about every day, and after about 100,000 words, proved to myself that I could write. And out of those daily writings, I had quite a few short stories—stories that I polished and sent out to a few literary journals only to get the same message—your story is not a good fit.

 

Becoming a Writer Dorothea Brande
Sometimes I feel that we writers burden ourselves with too much asking for permission. I have started rethinking the route of submitting (pun intended) to literary journals. Do I need a license from them to call myself a writer? A painter paints. She puts her paintings out for display and says, “Here is my art. Take it or leave it.” People don’t typically come along and say, “You know, I think you need to make those trees a deeper green and you have way too many stars in that sky. Revise it.” And so I have asked myself why a writer can’t simply put out a work and say, “Here it is.” To answer a somewhat rhetorical question, it is because a publisher (we are not even talking, a film producer) needs to invest in your writing. Errors don’t fare well with printing presses.

 

It isn’t you simply buying the canvas and producing the whole thing yourself. Now if that painter wants her art hung in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, her works have to be accepted.

It’s the same with a literary magazine. The editors must decide out of hundreds or thousands of submissions what to print. Today we can self-publish, so maybe I’m whining over a moot point.

But more to my point, the critiques and rejections, which I feel authors face far too many of, can inhibit a writer. I once had a story rejected because the main character, who happened to be a woman, hated (and was poor at) math and science. The magazine was willing to publish the story, provided I changed the character to a male. I am a woman writing about a girl who hates math. Is this really sexually biased?

Last night I had a dream. My husband and I were living in a large house with lots of people. We had a shared central living room and all around it, up and down the stairs, our housemates had their bedrooms or sleeping quarters. One day I was walking down a hallway and a woman was getting rid of an old mattress that had been standing up against the wall for ages. The space looked so nice without the mattress that everyone started relooking at their own areas and rearranging things. We all worked on this for several days.

At one point, I walked into the space that had once been the living room and saw that it no longer looked like a room. With all this rearranging, we had destroyed the very part of the house that we loved. Everyone had worked so hard to make the changes that no one wanted to admit that we had gone too far. At one point we were having a house meeting when I stood up and adamantly declared that the previous living room had been wonderful and that we needed to put it back the way it was. Then I woke up.

I’m thankful for this timely dream because it pinpoints the problem with the constant critiquing: the story you wrote can lose its essence. When is enough, enough?  When do you say, “This is it, I have created this work and I am happy with it”?  When—and how—do we stop asking for permission?

Now, I think I’ll go read that email attachment.

more RIFFs to enjoy

<a href="https://writersatlarge.com/riff/author/jude-pedersen/" target="_self">Jude Pedersen</a>

Jude Pedersen

Jude Myers Pedersen is originally from Brookline, Massachusetts. She received a BA in English Literature from the University of Texas at Austin, graduating as a Phi Beta Kappa in 1985. She is fond of the short story form and has been writing them for years. In 2009 she moved to Denmark, where she continues writing, working as a language editor and consultant, and singing in a rock band.

5 Comments

  1. marshall myers

    Jude
    What a wonderful article.
    Literary critics, drama critics and the like look for style, syntax, plot development, and other pedantic points rather than feel for the essence of “good writing.” Let it flow from deep within and it will be good, maybe great. There’s no doubt in my mind that George Gershwin would have called security and had Bob Dylan thrown out of his studio. Sure Gershwin wrote great standards but so didn’t Dylan. Different “essences” lead to different art.

    Reply
  2. Kimberley

    Thanks for your personal marvelous posting!

    I truly enjoyed reading it, you are a great author.
    I will make sure to bookmark your blog and may come back later on. I want to encourage one to continue your
    great posts, have a nice day!

    Reply
  3. Val

    Admiring the time and energy you put into your blog
    and in depth information you present. It’s great to come across
    a blog every once in a while that isn’t the same old rehashed material.

    Wonderful read! I’ve bookmarked your site and I’m adding your RSS feeds to my Google account.

    Reply
  4. Maura

    This piece of writing is actually a good one it helps new net viewers, who are wishing for blogging.

    Reply
  5. Ulrike

    I’m pretty pleased to uncover this page. I wanted to thank you for your time for this particularly
    wonderful read!! I definitely savored every part of it and
    i also have you saved as a favorite to see new stuff in your blog.

    Reply

Leave a Reply to Kimberley Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *