Yep, I submitted a piece of written work to a magazine for consideration. I don’t know any sane person who would put themselves through this kind of torture. I’m excited and afraid, hopeful and doubtful, and just a little bit proud for taking a chance on myself.
I’m already trying to frame my rejection in the best possible light, because you and I both know the probability of rejection is high. So, this is what I’m telling myself;
If I’m lucky, I’ll get genuine feedback on my work and not just a form letter. A note shows interest, right? I can work with that.
If it flat out gets rejected, I’m going to have to rework it and send it back to my beta readers.
Okay, good I have a plan. I have mentally steeled myself for the worst. But really, I’m not so sure this pep talk is going to work. There are too many butterflies swarming in my stomach. Plus, I know I could have tweaked that story some more, put some more polish on it, probably rearranged whole sections. (Thank God for deadlines or I’d never submit.)
I know, it’s crazy that my happiness depends on strangers thousands of miles away from me who will read my story, form an opinion, and say yay or nay in like five point two seconds. But, what are you going to do? That’s the writer’s life. I should have some type of response in six weeks or so. I’ll keep you guys posted.