Rejections, Meet Undaunted Writer

I'm not gonna pretend I wasn't disappointed with my recent rash of rejections from the Indiana Review, Ploughshares, One Story, Crazyhorse, New South, Colorado Review + the Calvino Prize where I wasn't even a finalist (ah yes, licking my wounds from that one).

But yo, rejection is the name of the game in this industry. Rejection is the rule + acceptance is always the beautiful exception. We all know that. And since I still have other manuscripts on the burner, really, it doesn't get me down too much. Sure, I get snarly + pissed off sometimes. I frequently tell fiction readers + editors to fuck off out loud when I get rejections, but I also know it's not personal. People are controlled by both aesthetic preferences + taste. We pretend it's about literary merit, but mostly it's about what we like.

Anyway, to appropriate SC's slogan, I'm gonna fight on motherfuckers. I'm a talented writer like thousands of other fiction writers in this country, but I'm also fiercely determined. Stubborn too. And I'm just gonna keep on writing, submitting, revising. Though I only got 3 stories accepted in 2009, they were also my best pick-ups since I started submitting short stories to journals. And recent submissions to the Missouri Review, Quarterly West, BOMB, Witness, Alaska Quarterly Review, Quarter Past 8, Mid-American Review, Threepenny Review, Black Warrior Review, North American Review + Harper'
s helps keep the faith alive. I write big, I dream big + I submit big. And every now + then, these three worlds converge for a brief moment.

Rejections, come again, son. I remain battle-tested + undaunted by you.

Love Affairs of Silverware

I wanna live in san francisco. i wanna live in japan too, maybe date a fabulous urban 日本人 who wears platform sneakers, boas and sparkles on her face.

workshop is too long and i think we should be allowed to take naps in our seats, or go to a vacant classroom and write poems about our life on the chalkboard. we should slip meth to william's coffee so we can get out of class at 1:00pm.

i miss the west coast hardcore. it's mad beautiful there, the cafes are outside, the ocean breathes down your neck, and the sun is always close to you. and the honies there. . . joder.

there are certain days where i feel like everyday i'm not with someone i love, or making love to her, is somehow a wasted day.

also, i have mixed feelings about staying in the US next year. part of me wants to so i can write, fine tune my novel, begin my writing career, and another part of me wants to live abroad, kick it in an expat community, explore new worlds and new cities, and write as consolation.

sometimes i like it when i feel like i can cry, it makes me feel like i'm open, unzipped, exposed to the air, a storm waiting to happen, an unlocked chakra.

today is quiet but beautiful.

::

rejections:

prairie schooner
verbsap ( a nice rejection though, as always)

submissions to:

soma lit journal
the literary review
chelsea
the colorado review

peace and love to youz,

--j2b