It’s not you, it’s me.

10 Feb

So, it’s been a long time, again. Why? I don’t have to explain myself to you. Your job in this relationship is to read the shit I post here and not complain. And judging by the statistics I can see, you haven’t been holding up your end of the bargain, either. How about you explain that first?

This blog post is about rejection. It will be short, neat and to the point. The way any good rejection should be.

A few months ago I e-mailed a few of my short stories for publication. I received my first response a couple of days ago. A short, simple rejection. To be honest, I had completely forgotten that I had even sent anything to anyone and my reaction to this completely surprised me. Reading it made me extremely happy.

An acceptance would have been lovely, obviously. But, the first thing that came to my mind after reading the e-mail wasn’t ‘Well, what was wrong with it? You pieces of shit haven’t got a clue about writing!’ It was, ‘Woah, I’ve made a start.’ Someone, somewhere, that I don’t even know has read something that I have written. Regardless of their response, that’s a really exciting step. I’m not going to be crushed by this and I’m certainly going to continue writing.

By all of this, of course I mean that I’m currently tracking down the whereabouts of my rejector so that I can mail them a bag of shit and toenails. Because fuck you, that’s why.

It’s strange how similar a rejection letter from a publication is to a break-up. This was the explanation I was offered:

‘I’ve now had a chance to read it and I’m afraid it’s not quite right for us.’

Translation: ‘Your story was shit, how dare you waste my time.’

To be fair, I’m really not sure if my story will be “quite right” for anyone. It is about a strange man wandering about a vacant Ireland with a deckchair, claiming that he’s the king. So maybe that wasn’t just a line.

But whatever, the most important thing about rejection is learning to accept it. So right now, I need someone to help tape me into a large cardboard box and post me to these bastards.

I demand a real explanation.



3 Responses to “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  1. KG Arndell February 10, 2012 at 6:32 pm #

    Gavin, this was funny as hell. I think if I’d been printing all my rejections up until this point, I’d be able wallpaper my home office by now.

  2. Atiya Townes February 10, 2012 at 7:13 pm #

    I think I’m in love. Funniest and most truthful, I’ve read in a while. Excellent delivery of your feelings. I just want to hug and laugh at the same time. That’s it I’m following you on my blog.

  3. Courtney February 14, 2012 at 1:22 am #

    I just found you through whim of the internet, but I think I’d be quite interested in reading about a deck-chair carrying king. How very Don Quixote….

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