My less-than-spectacular webmail provider recently updated their system, allowing me to categorize my emails. I put all my rejections into one folder because I’ve always saved my rejections as a reminder to keep at it. The rejection folder helpfully displays how many emails it contains. In the last seven years, I’ve collected 400+ rejections.
I put this out there because, while I’m sure I posted on Facebook about every single publication during this period, I doubt I’ve ever mentioned any specific rejection. That paints a skewed picture of what my writing life is like.
I do not enjoy being rejected. Surprising, I know. Every last one of them gives me anywhere from a moment to an entire day of pain and self-doubt. But that collection of rejections themselves? I don’t mind them. They are a record of perseverance. A small perseverance, for sure. There is so much worse for others to endure. But this is a writing blog. And I am a writer. And rejection is what we must learn to handle. Processing it and then sequestering it in a little folder on the side.