Poornima Manco

Author

Writing

Dealing with disappointment

by

In the past week, three of my writing submissions were rejected. To one, there was no response. One made it to the long list but failed the next hurdle. The third (of which I had high hopes) came with a rejection email that complained about font size.

To say I was dejected would be a massive understatement. I considered that perhaps I just don’t have what it takes. Whatever the elusive ‘it’ maybe. I thought about giving it up altogether. Or, at the very least, taking a break from all my frenetic short story writing. Yet, with a deadline looming, I had a decision to make. Either to bypass this particular competition again, or to knuckle down, sod the odds, and submit submit submit.

Then I happened to stumble across an article that spoke to me directly.

It outlined the many bestsellers that had multiple rejection letters behind them. That, but for the writer’s persistence and self belief, would never have seen the light of day.

Consider this: Margaret Mitchell got 38 rejections before Gone with the Wind found a publisher. Kathryn Stockett’s The Help was rejected 60 times! J.K. Rowling received 12 publishing rejections in a row.

Yet, if there is one thing that binds these authors together, it is their determination, their refusal to take no for an answer.

I understand that all judging is subjective.What one particular competition may disregard, another may commend.That does not, however, let me off the hook either. My job is to refine whatever I am writing, so that, if it is rejected, then it’s not for trivial matters like font size.

So, with this in mind, I am back to writing. The other stories will languish on my laptop for a while, till time and distance lends me the perspective to go back to them, and edit,tweak and polish.

Ultimately, it is better to live with rejection than with regret.

Conflict of interest?

by

I was asked recently why my stories have petered off. I seem to be blogging more about random things, than posting that which I am “specialised” in – short stories. Well, there are a couple of reasons for this. One, quite simply, the store has diminished. What I mean is, that when I began blogging about a year ago, I had a good stock of stories that I had built up over the last 4 odd years. Some that had placed in competitions, and some that hadn’t. Seeing as I was not planning to re use them (as in, submit them any further), I was quite happy posting them on here.

Now, I have a concurrent problem. The ones that I do have in stock are ones that I plan to polish, tweak, re do and submit. And a lot of competitions these days, state quite clearly in their T&C’s that prior published material, regardless of it being print or digital, will not be entertained. So, there you have it! The old supply and demand problem. The supply, unfortunately, has dwindled.

I’m hoping that the blog in itself, is fairly thought provoking, and topical. If it isn’t, do not hesitate to complain! I was accused by a friend, of treading way too softly, and tackling subjects way too tame. That maybe. However, as a blogger, I merely put my thoughts out there to you. Sometimes I tackle my personal demons on here. This is not an incendiary blog. It’s merely a little nudge from time to time.

In the meantime, I keep reminding myself to knuckle down and write. Solitary, painful and largely without recompense, writing is still something I love. So, back to the drawing board it is. Time to produce, birth, create my fledglings…..

Image

The joys of Procrastination (and the side effects)

by

I have no one to blame but myself. You do not start a story with no clear plot in mind. This is what I have done…again. Previously, it has somehow worked. This time, not so much. My story has stuttered to a halt. And rather than do what all writers must do, which is, show up, shut up and write, I am procrastinating.

Suddenly that circuits class at the gym…the one that’s going to kill you…looks very attractive. Oh, and cleaning! The pleasure I am deriving from that. Not to mention, the laundry, the dusting, the cooking, the unloading of the dishwasher…. Heck, I’ll even slap on some gloves and give the toilet a thorough cleaning. Anything but what I must do. Which is write.

I could argue that I am writing….doesn’t this blog count towards something?

Yeah, I know.

Back to the dusting then.

Is it worth it?

by

I was in the middle of writing a story when I found out about the demise of a family member. That was nearly two weeks ago. Since then, I have been unable to return to that story, even with a submission deadline looming.

I could ascribe it to writer’s block. Or being far too busy, or far too grief stricken. But underneath that unwillingness to carry on writing, lies quite another beast. One that I find myself unable to name.

Is it doubt? All writers have their fair share of that. Is it ennui? There is certainly some of that within me, right now . But the overriding feeling is one of hopelessness. Why am I writing? What is the purpose here?Is anyone even reading what I write? And what do I hope to accomplish with my half baked stories and strange ramblings? Do I expect to become some kind of best selling novelist at my ripe age? Haha to that.

All human beings want to leave some kind of a mark on the world. Whether it is in the form of art or music or progeny or a business venture, there is always a yearning to be remembered. In the end, however, how many of us really are?

Death is a great leveller.

Right now, it is making me question all that I have felt was important or worthwhile. Will I come out the other end still writing? Only time will tell.