Tag: risk

• November 22, 2019

  Motivated By Rejection

  

  This week, I got a rejection from a prominent science fiction journal. Rejections are common when you’re a writer trying to publish short fiction. The competition is fierce and editors can only publish so many stories. They have to draw the line somewhere, so the vast majority of responses you get when shopping around a story are: “No thanks” or “This isn’t what we’re looking for.”

  I’ve received my fair share of rejections since I first started sending out my short stories. The first ten or twenty really hurt. It felt personal, even though I knew it was a professional judgment on whether the story fit a particular editor’s needs, but it always felt like a condemnation of my dream of being a writer. Each rejection that piled up felt like an argument that I wasn’t any good; that I should give up.

  I don’t feel that way anymore.

  Maybe I grew a thicker skin to criticism or perhaps I’ve learned to distance myself emotionally from the process. But for whatever reason, I’ve come to see rejections as motivating rather than discouraging.

  The rejection I received this week felt good. It’s been a busy year and quality writing time is scarce these days. This was my first rejection in over a year for the simple fact that I hadn’t submitted anything to a literary journal in so long.

  So, when I got this rejection, it felt like I’d earned it. I had risked something and taken the bold step of sending a story that I’d been polishing for years out into the world. I had accomplished something and that felt good.

  Rejection is never fun, but look closer. The story I sent wasn’t what this editor was looking to publish — but they still liked it — and they invited me to submit again if I write something else. As far as rejections go, this one gave me hope that I am a decent writer after all and that my work is enjoyable to read.

  The same day I got that rejection, I submitted to the next journal on my list of favorite places to read contemporary sci-fi. They also turned it down, but I still feel like I’m back in the running and I’m more determined than ever to find this piece a home.

  Rejection can feel like defeat. Or it can feel like a nudge in the right direction. It’s up to you.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA who dabbles in filmmaking and photography. He’s (slowly) working on a novel manuscript and seeking publication for a pretty cool time travel short story. His previous fiction has appeared in the pages of Creative Colloquy and Grit City Magazine.

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• December 31, 2012

  The Year In Focus

  

  When you’re developing film by hand, you always print a contact sheet — a single print of all of the negatives on your roll of film. Every shot is laid out in neat rows, side by side for comparison. You can see which photos are correctly exposed, composed and lit and which ones you should throw away.

  When I look back on the year 2012, it’s as if I’m looking at the contact sheet from a roll of 35mm film. Some of the memories are crisp and clear, like the week I spent in Guatemala in March or my work on the Gathering in New Orleans this past July. Some are blurry, like my last semester of college. Some are long exposures that leave long trails of light in their wake where so many images overlap and crowd into the same small space, like the time I’ve spent with my girlfriend, Stephanie.

  Like a roll of film tucked into the dark recesses of a camera, you don’t know how a year will turn out until it’s over. Only in retrospect can we see the obvious — that we ignored an opportunity we should’ve lept at, that we lingered too long, that we didn’t wait long enough. And occasionally (but so rarely), that we were at the exact right angle with exactly the right aperture and exactly the right shutter speed to capture exactly the right shot.

  You never know how things will develop until you’re in the darkroom, long after the moment is captured on tiny grains of silver halide crystal…or after the moment has slipped through your fingers. The exposures on a roll of film are finite, you only get 12 or 24 shots and once you’ve pressed the shutter button, there is no changing them.

  Life is the same way. But that doesn’t mean that you should hoard undeveloped film. You have to risk taking the shot. Maybe it won’t be in focus. That’s okay. You can learn from that. But if you never load the film into the camera, if you never risk a bad photograph or an unpleasant memory, you’ll never have a chance at a beautiful memory.

  I took risks this year and now it’s all coming into focus. I hope you did, too.

  Happy New Year!

  — 30 —

  Thanks for reading this year! I’ll be back in 2013 with more of my signature wit and feats of linguistic prowess. Until then, please comment, share and follow me on Twitter: @jonnyeberle.

  Top Posts of 2012:
  Guatemala Through the Rear View Mirror
  An Examined Life: In Memory of Dr. Joel Olson
  An Open Letter to Sherlock Holmes