Yesterday afternoon, I got a literary journal in the mail. It was one I submitted to last year. They rejected my piece, but I get copies of the magazine; a consolation prize. As I tore off the plastic wrapping, I wanted nothing more than to find my own words in those pages. But they weren’t there. At least, not yet.

Confidence in my own work comes in waves. There are highs and lows. And with the lows comes a desperation. Flipping through the journal, I was desperate for validation. I was desperate to make it in this field. You can either let that desperation drag you down or use it as fuel to drive you forward.

No matter what it is you want to become, there are always obstacles to getting there. But there is always that one thing that keeps you going. The thing that challenges you to carry on. For me, that lit journal — the one that didn’t publish me — is the thing that keeps me coming back to the keyboard. Someday, my stories will fill those pages and people around the world will read them, but until that day, there’s a lot of work to do.

— 30 —

I’m a writer is Flagstaff, AZ. You can leave your thoughts in the comments below or find me on the Twitter machine: @jonnyeberle.

Related Posts:

Envelopes and Anticipation
The End of an Era
Failing with Style