About a month ago I was walking down a hallway at work when an idea for a poem came to mind. (The poem is called Halls, in case you were wondering…and is about hallways, but like, in a deep way). So anyway, I decided to submit it to an online literary magazine that I liked, all the while telling myself “it might not get accepted and that is okay…”
And I thought it would be okay, only this morning I got an email from them and it read “we regret to inform you…” you can guess the rest.
Now one thing you don’t know about me is that the voice in my head strongly resembles that of Tyler Perry’s Madea and I have fondly called my ghetto-licious mental alter ego, Shaniqua.
So Shaniqua’s first reaction was Is. You. For. Real? *Insert clapping and head bobbing*
Yes, sweet Shaniqua, they was for real.
I realized on the way to work, as I drove horizontally down the road (I was still half asleep and in shock) that I was more devastated than I had expected to be. Now I know I said that it would be okay to have it rejected and that most writers do face a lot of rejection in the beginning….but I didn’t expect that to happen to me.
You see, I think quite highly of myself and of my poetry…
But on a serious note, this experience was humbling and in the long run this will be good for me because that rejection was the first step in a long journey to success. I just hope I make it while I’m still young and beautiful, because we all know fame after death is for ugly people.