Today marks the receipt of my first-ever rejection letter from a publishing company.
It's a weird feeling. Instead of being sad or angry (I was naturally disappointed, but just a little bit!) I was instead inspired. As soon as I got the rejection, I high-tailed it to my favorite website ever and submitted not one, not two, but four different pieces. It somehow managed to light a fire under my ass!
I even, in my sudden ambition, submitted a piece to The New Yorker.
I'll admit, I've only read The New Yorker maybe once, in a doctors waiting room or something. But a good friend of mine read Times Square, 2011 and said (and I quote, because I've committed it to memory!) "You should go on to write for The New Yorker or something, that was brilliantly written."
So I thought, hey, why not?
Rejection (and eventual acceptance!) is only a few copy-paste-clicks away!