Wednesday, March 24, 2010


..of any kind is hard to handle. Those you love leaving you, friends who move on..but the one I struggle with the most is rejection of my writing. These fragile little things that I send out on the US Mail..

I found out I did not win the book competition I entered. They picked a book of essays about maternity. I have to face the facts: My firefighting memoir is. Not. Good. The agent(hi Janet!) who requested the full manuscript (here I can insert some snobby writer lingo: a "full" means the whole thing; a partial is..okay maybe it is pretty self-explanatory. Forget it) also agreed it was. Not. Good because it was too much like a series of episodes rather than a story that stuck together (kind of like peanut butter). Well, I agree with her, so I am at a point where I have to decide whether to chuck it or ruthlessly cut and paste.

Rejection can make me a better writer, though; a better girlfriend, a better friend. So back I go to the writing, because something in me makes me do it. It's the same thing that made me keep running in two marathons; the same thing that pushes me up the trails or to keep skiing even though I am Not. Good. at that either.

Wilderness and writing are entwined for me. I can't separate the two. Being out there makes me a better writer. Writing helps me understand why I need to be out there.

1 comment:

  1. It doesn't mean the "episodes" are Not. Good. Find new homes for some, or all, of them in magazines, anthologies, as newspaper essays, etc. They may not stick together like peanut butter but they are mighty good as peanuts...and I for one can't stop eating, or reading, those.


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