Yesterday I found out I was rejected from a writing workshop I applied to, and the news has got me flattened. Not that I expect to get accepted to everything I apply to–I don’t! But I liked the piece I submitted (or did at the time. Now, I hate it, see every glaring flaw), and looked forward to being in a writing environment again. It feels like forever that I’ve been in that luxurious space, of listening and learning, and thinking of what I might create. I’ve been trying to write something new–something long that requires focus and time and quiet and solitude–and life keeps happening, leaving me sidelined and distracted. For every small step I manage forward, ten backward paces follow.
The rejection reminds me that nothing is easy or guaranteed. This particular workshop, clearly, wasn’t the right place for me at this moment. That’s how it goes sometimes, as I remind my children daily. We try, we fail, and we try again.
For me, with writing, I know what I have to do. I have to keep writing. There is no other way. I need to redouble my efforts and not get discouraged. To keep moving forward.~
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