Yippee! I've Been Rejected! by Donna Coe-Velleman
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For three years I’ve attended
the Long Island Romance
Writer’s Luncheon,
where I’ve sat quietly,
watched, listened and ate
decadent chocolate mousse.
But this year I was hitting
the floor. I finally had something
to pitch. Armed with
my trusty index cards I approached
editor after editor,
agent after agent, touting my
manuscript, THE TOUCH OF
A LIE.
I’ll be the first to admit I
wasn’t the smoothest out
there. My nerves being what
they were, I forgot what I
practiced saying (that’s
where the index cards came
in handy), I couldn’t find my
pen and had to borrow one
from Jozelle Dyer, an editor
for Tor, and when it was
over, I realized I missed two
people I wanted to talk to.
But I did receive some positive
feedback and a few said,
“Send it.”
The following days I sent
my baby out into the world
where I hoped she could find
a good home and would
grow to maturity. Hearing it
could take six months to a
year to get a response, I
pushed my submissions to
the back of my mind while I
worked on other things.
Imagine my surprise and
partial dismay when I received
one of my selfaddressed
envelopes less
than three weeks after I
mailed everything. I dropped
it on the table unopened
and walked away. I made
myself a cup of tea and lit a
cigarette. Now I was ready.
Tearing away the flap, I
pulled out the letter and
read. Yep, it was a rejection
from Liza Schwartz of New
American Library. She was
very kind and offered a few
suggestions. She will go
down in my chronicles as
being my first.
Even though I knew my
manuscript wouldn’t take
shape there, I didn’t feel
disheartened. I was kind of
elated. It hit me at that moment,
and thank goodness
it did, that this rejection
was a testimony to how far
I’d come.
I thought how many people
are out there sitting at
home, thinking of writing a
story or writing that piece
but never sending it out.
Must be thousands, thousands
upon thousands.
Yet I did it. I pushed myself
to finish my idea, timidly
placed it before others
to critique it and forced myself
to go past my comfort
zone to pitch it. That’s no
mean feat.
So I rejoice in the arrival
of this letter because it tells
me how much I’ve grown in
four years. With this rejection
in front of me I can
honestly say I am a writer.
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