when is rejection a good thing?

Before I began submitting stories to literary magazines, I never understood the concept of a good rejection. A rejection is a rejection is a painfully throbbing abscess, right?

Dan called today. He was home, I was out. “If you got bad news, small bad news, would that completely depress you?” IE: are you in good enough shape to hear more awful shit?

“Small bad news?”

“Well, you got an envelope. Self addressed. That’s not good, right?”

“It’s a rejection. Open it anyway.”

So he opened it. And read it. Sure enough, Tin House said no. But with a handwritten – and signed – note addressed to me by name, saying they liked my writing, would love to see more. Tin House is one of my favorite lit mags as well as a very prestigious one. I don’t think Dan quite understands why I was delighted by that note, but he wasn’t about to kill my good mood. But this is how people get published. The editors read your work, become acquainted it, start to smile when they see your name on the first page. Next thing you know, you’re in. That’s what happened to Melissa Banks, I believe. She developed a relationship with the Zoetrope editor over a series of near-misses, ended up with a commission to write a story, which became the lynchpin for a set of linked short stories, A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing. Her first book.

This short story of mine, the one I wrote in December and January, the one I said was a breakthrough for me, that’s the one that’s now garnered three requests to see more. This has never happened before. For me, handwritten notes are a step up. Granted, I’ve sent few stories out thus far and those to few venues, but still. I didn’t get more aggressive because I could tell they weren’t ready for prime time. This one is, it seems. Enough so to get past the first two, maybe three, readers at Tin House and land me a handwritten note from the classy Missouri Review too. And also to make it to the top five choices at the respected Folio (thanks, Lara). And who knows? Maybe in the next batch of submissions, it’ll garner an even nicer phone call, one saying “We want to publish it.” It feels eminently possible. Within reach.

I’m thinking the time is nearly right to begin sending out the next story. And write another new one, too. Because this slush pile lottery? It’s getting fun.

Posted by Tamar at May 24, 2004 09:49 PM