Rejection isn’t something a writer should fear. We all get hit by it, one rejection at a time. I’ve lost count of the amount of rejections I’ve had since I got serious about writing. It’s what happens.
I think to myself: am I really improving? What am I doing wrong?
It’s worrying to think I’m missing something, I’m failing to meet someone’s approval.
In truth, I feel like I’ve improved. I look back at my early work and scoff. There’s no way anyone could reasonably look over my work and think it was written by a skilled storyteller.
But it also feels like I’m at the edge. Like all I need is a little more improvement and I’ll be there. I have the ideas, the realization of what it is I like about these stories, but all I need is a little something more. I need a spark, a small light to kindle the flame of my writing. There’s something missing, but I don’t know what.
But it’s more than that. I sometimes really worried my dream of being published won’t come true.
Even now more lessons strike my heart. I think to myself about how I write and realize I need to write as I think. An easy thing to say, but a personal realization to me nonetheless.
But I have to cope. The writing game is 75% writing, 25% coping.