Rejection Letters

Brown hair, blue eyes

Freckles throughout

A stance that leans

To the left

            One shallow dimple

                        To the right of her nose

            That deepens whenever she

            Smile for the camera

            Tilt your chin up

            You’re gorgeous, you’re perfect

            You’re

            Just like her mother

            Acts like her, too,

            Though she follows her father

            Around and around

            They spin her in circles

            Posing and primping

            And

            Loving herself

            Is only accomplished

            In the hours she

            Look in the mirror,

            See that sweet face?

            So pretty

and yet

    With a quick coat of

                        Tears

            Are muffled in pillows

            As she lies in her bed

            So no one will hear

            How she cries in the night

            And wishes to be someone else.

Ephemeral Mirrors

Brown hair, blue eyes

Freckles throughout

A stance that leans

To the left

            One shallow dimple

                        To the right of her nose

            That deepens whenever she

            Smile like you meant it

            What are you wearing?

            Do you see how it clings?

            You’re

            Just like her mother

            Acts like her, too

            Though she follows her father

            In size and in height

            They murmur and whisper

            Feeding yet scolding

            So

            Loving herself

            Is only accomplished

            In the hours she

            Look in the mirror

            See that round face?

            Near pretty

                        And yet

            With a shade fewer

                        Tears

            Are muffled in pillows

            As she lies in her bed

            So no one will hear

            How she cries in the night

            And wishes to be someone else.

I got a rejection letter today from Poetry Magazine. No, that’s not true. I got a rejection e-mail. That’s worse than a letter. That says, we read your work, we didn’t care for it, and we didn’t care for it so much that we couldn’t be bothered to break out the stationary and stamp. I’m not even worth fifty cents to those darlings (and yeah, yeah, yeah, please lecture me about being eco-friendly. I get it. I want to save the earth. I also want someone to send me a rejection letter worth getting).

And before I go on, I want you to know that I’ve heard it all before. This isn’t my first rejection. I know that rejection builds character, everyone gets rejected, and I should save my letters (er, e-mails) so that one day I can look back and think “Gosh, that sure made me a stronger person” … well, forget it. Rejection letters may turn me into the most confident, self-assured, character-strong person you’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean I want to get them. I want to get an “I love and accept you , you’re being published! e-mail” But I don’t see that coming any time soon, at least not for approximately 6 to 8 weeks …

So I’m sending myself one instead. I’m publishing my own fiction, poetry, whatever online, and I’ll publish yours too. Send your rejected (or non-rejected) works to rejections.susan@gmail.com, and I’ll post them for you. I’ll even send an “I love (please take that term loosely) and accept you, you’re being published!!!!! e-mail.” I promise.  

Happy writing!