Sometimes, rainy days give you time to reflect on things. You watch the drops slide down your living room windows as you sit in your quiet house. You hear the rain patter against the roof. Meanwhile, traffic moves without a care in the world as people go about their afternoons.
That feeling of comfort I had discussed last week is gone. Already.
Am I good enough as a writer? Or have I just been kidding myself all of these years so my ego wouldn’t get hurt?
I heard back from a literary magazine I had submitted a short story to months ago. For some reason, the rejection hurt. Saying my story “was not a right fit” for their magazine. A part of me, I confess, wanted to track them down on social media and ask why.
Not a right fit?
Then what is a right fit?
With another magazine, that time it was for an unpaid editor position…I found the people they chose had more experience than me. That stung too, and in fact, I did tweet at them saying about not giving those with less experience a chance.
Maybe that wasn’t a good idea, but at the time that’s how I felt. It’s been like that with the job search too with applying for the writing jobs that I did. Just not a right fit, or enough experience, etc. Plus, you don’t know why you get told no.
I have felt lately when I finally go back to church, I hear the “j” word? Aka job. I might snap. AKA tell them to stop asking because it’s getting on my nerves.
I recently left a writer’s group online, too, because I felt I wasn’t acknowledged. When I made the decision to leave, one person seemed to really care. That hurt. I took it personally when the truth is there are A TON of people in this group.
I do have some chips on my shoulder, online and off. Maybe that’s why here too people don’t comment. I have been grateful for the views through LinkedIn and elsewhere…but that’s all it is.
Some writer I turned out to be.