The Sting of Rejection

A couple weeks ago, I got my second rejection letter.  It stung a little.  It is always a little shocking when people don't think your great idea was such a great idea.  I resist every urge to reply to the email, mostly because I can't come up with anything more than "Really?  Whatever! *Expletive!"  I think that resisting a reply was wise.  I felt a little beaten.  I told my husband about it and he tried to cheer me up, but I resisted that too.  My friends pointed out how JK Rowling and Dr Seuss had also been rejected a bunch of times.  Again, I am sticking firm in resisting at this point.

I needed some time alone in a dark corner to lick my wounds.  In that corner, I decided that I'm not doing the right thing, that maybe drawing and writing isn't "my thing".  Maybe my thing right now is just to be wife and mother.  I'm was just going to concentrate on being a good mom and mediocre wife...maybe get a job.

But it's summer vacation and these kids (mine plus my nephew) are making me nuts.  Two of them are 14, one is 8, and they can not get along.  At one point I said something completely unintelligible, it sounded foreign, maybe Middle Eastern and I might've spit a little.  They looked at each other and agreed silently that I had lost my mind.  I decided right then and there that I was done being miserable.  Time to come out of my dark corner and get back at it.

I went outside hoping to clear my head and almost immediately got stung by a yellow jacket!  I wanted to cry.  I really wanted to cry.  It hurt like hell.  Just when you think it's over, it hurts some more.  I looked to God/the Universe in confusion and let a out a stream of cussing.  Sitting there with my yellow jacket cure (a glass of whiskey) and a ice pack on my arm, I decided it truly was time to stop feeling stung and defeated.  I'm going to let my kids and nephew live in the filth of their rooms and use my time to draw or write instead of yelling nonsense about clean rooms and friends coming who don't even care what my house looks like.  I wanted a fresh perspective and, boy, I got it.  I always say I need God/Universe to give me a neon sign because I'm not good at subtlety.  Message received.  Thank you, God.

I may step away from the dinosaurs though, my nephew wants a picture of Ghost Rider, so I'll work on that.  I'm going to get back to trying to blog regularly and write that novel I've been working on.  I've decided not to take the sting of rejection so hard and it might be the whiskey talking, but I do think T-Rexy a good book and self publishing may be in my future.  This journey is not yet over.

"You......who are you? And what the hell do you think you're doing?"
--Johnathon Blaze