Post-rejection plan

I am getting ready to submit a short story to a competition and pitch my YA manuscript to publishers. Although I've mostly got over the crippling fear of submitting, I still get an oh-my-god-what-am-I-doing rush when I hit send. Each time a rejection comes back in I remind myself that many published novelists were rejected multiple times (It's an interesting list, but I take no responsibility to the writing).

In this image the treasure is publishing a novel. 

I have a magic number of rejections in my head, after which I'll get contracted. I know it's a delusion, but it keeps me going. I have recently struck on another tool to get me through rejections – this short story competition and pitching my latest manuscript will be the test. When (I can't even say "if" anymore) these get rejected, I'm going to invest in a mentor. I will go to my local Writers Centre and sign up for a writing mentorship program. I'm pretty excited about it and that will hopefully cushion me through this round of rejections. It has the added bonus of being a pro-active approach to reducing further rejections too, I hope.

Maybe this technique could get me through other undesirable events: I'm putting off making a dentist appointment – after I go, I can buy a bottle of wine (and drink it). I don't like mopping the floor – after I do, I get to sit down with a chocolate and a book.

Rewarding rewording

In writing class this morning, we workshopped a chapter from each person's novel. That took an hour and a half. Once at work, I had an appointment with a student to check half of his final thesis that needed to be rewritten due to quotation and citation errors. That took almost three hours, with a short break in the middle. Finally, an unscheduled student came in and asked me to look at her thesis before she handed it in. That brief structural edit took half an hour. By the time I got home, my brain was off, and my eyes felt sore and probably crossed. It was all I could do to feed myself and stumble into bed (after typing this, of course). I'll sleep well tonight after such an exhausting, yet rewarding, day.

Turning point

I think I had a turning point at work last week. I was booked pretty much fully all week, which was busy and meant I had to start scheduling breaks and paperwork catch-up times. (Up until now I've had some days with no students booked in at all.) It's good, though, because it means the students need/want my services and it shows the school they are right to employ me for as many hours as they do. Also, three students, through no prompting of my own, shared life issues that they're dealing with, with me. Two just wanted to get it off their chest and one asked advice. ('I see that you're married. How do you know someone is the right person? Is he still the right person?' – Tough, poignant questions.) This was important because, without realising it, I had been feeling like I had a superficial relationship with my students. I don't teach the same class all the time anymore; they're not children, who need me and share everything unguardedly; and I was feeling like it could be anyone in there doing my job and it would make no difference. Then when these three students, all of whom I worked with last semester quite a bit, opened up to me spontaneously about some pretty heavy problems, I felt privileged and knew that I have now been there long enough to earn their trust. Also, this job can be as rewarding and meaningful as classroom teaching, in a different way.

Materialism = competiteness?

The other day my husband came home quite excited because his company had just signed a deal with a certain flying-lady airline. He was now automatically a Gold member with all the associated rewards. This is in the same week when he's also become a Platinum member of another airline because of all the inter-state flying he's done for work in the last eight months. So he's doubly pleased. My husband is ambitious and likes exclusive things. That's not me, so much. When I play tennis I want to know I've made my best shot. I'm thrilled this week because a small inconsequential decision I made months ago will be pivotal to the ending of my current novel. I appreciate beauty in fine art, but don't need to spend vast amounts of money to display it in my home. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy cheering for my team (but I often get caught up in the excitement of a really good goal no matter which side it's for); I am extremely grateful to have a comfortable home and my husband's income has a lot to do with that; and I know that economies and scientific discoveries rely on materialism and competitiveness respectively. I just hadn't associated the two personality traits  before. I'll have to observe other people we know to see if this link holds up.