The other day, I received the most lovely rejection from a UK publication. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t all rainbows and puppies. But it was exceedingly polite.
Don’t be discouraged, said the editor, for what may not work for us might be perfect for another publication. Honestly, I couldn’t have said it better myself. But sending your story out to another publication is not the tip (’cause you already know that).
Here’s the tip: When you see a call out for a short story or an essay or a sestina (hey, it could happen) and it makes you think of something you wrote, months, even years ago, pull out the piece. Chances are good that you’ll see something (or a few somethings) that make you sorta, kinda squirm. In other words, welcome to that big old room of improvement. Take a seat and get to work. Maybe there’s a better way to move your plot, a more interesting way to express your theme, or maybe your sestina was more like a rondeau (um, I don’t pen sestinas or rondeaus. But that’s not the point here, people). Bet you’ll see all kinds of ways to make improvements.
And even if you know it’s a long shot, sending your piece to a British publication, at least now, you’re motivated and you have a much better piece than you did before. And then, if you get a lovely rejection, send out the piece somewhere else. Because there is a pot of gold at the end of one of those rainbows. Might as well be yours.
(Thanks to stock.xchng for the photo. And here’s the short and sweet on types of poetry.)
Cathy C. Hall Writes 
Love this -"… welcome to that big old room of improvement. Take a seat and get to work." Well said, Cathy!
Certainly know what rejection feels like, and you are right, tweak it and resend it.
Well, thanks, Madeline. The old Room for Improvement is a throwback to my youth. Guess I learned that lesson well. ;-)And Linda, I'm always resending stuff. Someday, I'll learn how to do it right the first time. š
A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to "go to hell" in such a way that you look forward to the trip.
Hey Cathy,I love reading your blog. I leave inspired and refreshed–and usually laughing. Even after receiving a rejection you are upbeat. DonnaOkay. The other day my secret word was "cheat," and today it's "liese." Is there a pattern here? cheat and lie. What's up with that?
And if the diplomat's a Brit, Bill, you're smiling as you go:-).Aw, thanks, Donna. I was just visiting at YOUR lovely blog! :-)(This is how conspiracy theories start-at first, it's just a simple word or two. Or IS IT????)
Very good advice — you are the best writing teacher around. Your tips beat Maeve Binchy in her newest book, the Maeve Binchy Writers' Club, by an Irish mile!
Aw, Anita, you're so nice (even when I know it's blarney š I want to read Maeve's book! Hope the library has it.
The Brits really know how to put a glow on things, don't they? My daughter insists anything said in a British accent immediately sounds better. She may be onto something.
We shall all meet soon for tea and crumpets and discuss this theory. P.S. I think your daughter is brilliant!
Hey Cathy! Gosh, I was really behind in my blog commentating! I read this the day you posted it, but somehow left without leaving even a smidgeon of a note! I like what Bill said about being a diplomat. It reminded me of an old joke about how Southern Women learned to say "Wonderful" instead of Bull S**t….or something along those lines!! Keep on keepin' on!