A Different Feeling

By Keith N Fisher

I got another rejection this morning. No big deal right? It comes with the job? My first rejection, several years ago, was encouraging. It was full of great advice, which I used to start a writing career. I learned more about my craft. I attended writer’s conferences and workshops. I started another story.

The second rejection hurt. My cliché reaction was classic: I made copies and bought postage for this? How could they say that about my baby? Are they out of their mind? Don’t they know I was inspired to write that book? (I did believe God would intervene, but then again, who hasn’t?).

When I decided to chuck the whole thing and quit writing, I realized I was hooked. I couldn’t quit. I started another book. That was several books, and many rejections ago. For awhile, I went into a, writing, (not submitting), mode. I wrote like the wind. With several new books and revisiting plot ideas, I lived in the zone.

Then recently, I pulled up my bootstraps, revised my submission logs, and started back down that road.

As I’ve mentioned here before, I could pursue self-publishing, and I intend to go there, but something inside of me needs the confirmation of the publishing credit. Besides, I lost my critique group and flying solo is scary.

So, I was rejected again. Or was I? Every rejection is hard and we have a tendency to take it personally, but is it? I submitted an edgy story to an LDS publisher. Well, Starcrossed isn’t that controversial, but there are depictions of a lifestyle that must be told in order to see the character growth. Then, at one point in the story, my character hits on a married, LDS Bishop, but he was the unrequited love of her life.

While rejecting it, the editor praised my book and idea, but . . . 

Since many of my plot ideas come from life experiences, My mind could construe a rejection of my life, but . . .

Emotion surged through my body as I read. The old feelings of wanting to quit rose up. I was sad, but . . .

Of course I want to cry, but there is a different kind of feeling in this rejection. The editor liked my story, but in a strictly conservative market, especially with the changes in publishing. Well, you get the message. The point here is I wasn’t rejected. My book was, but the story is good.

I am both happy and sad today. I’ll take a moment and cry, then I will submit my book to another publisher. Starcrossed might end up being self-published, but Rebecca deserves to have her story told. After all, She overcame alcohol, drugs, and abusive husbands, to find a better life.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.