29 thoughts on “January 30, 2017: That One Sound Effect”

  1. The trick: send a rejection letter to a young writer that encourages them to keep working on their craft without crushing their spirits. I'm going to need more coffee.

      1. Thanks for sharing that, Pepper. This hit home for me today:

        You will lament that you have to hone a skill that makes you detestable.

        Bonus points to the author for quoting Tranströmer at the beginning. You can look for an email a little later today.

    1. As the recipient of many rejection letters (not this area, specifically, but the principles still apply, I think), I recommend making it clearly individualized. Just a single extra sentence or two can do the trick. Form rejection, or things that can feel like form rejections, hurt most. Ones that make it obvious you gave honest, individualized consideration actually can feel good.

      1. My experience with form rejections is similar. I wish I could say that collecting them in a folder named "Grist" helps, but it doesn't. If reported statistics are accurate, form rejections are the norm for writers submitting to journals, but I can't imagine they feel much better for established writers than for those trying to get their first few pieces published.

        Seeing it from the inside, I understand the volume of submissions might overwhelm editorial resources, particularly at the top journals. On the other hand, form rejections make the system as opaque as possible, which discourages people from trying after receiving a string of them. That's decidedly counterproductive, particularly for an enterprise that embraces humanity & creativity.

        1. In his book On Writing, Stephen King talks about the place in his bedroom where he kept all of his rejection letters.

          “The nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and kept on writing.”

          1. I've been rejected far more than I've been accepted, and I've found that my skin has grown thicker every year. The toughest came last year when I was rejected for a position that I was way more than qualified for. The form rejection implied that I wasn't even remotely qualified to fill the position, and that I should keep an eye on their hiring page for job openings with less requirements. The worst part was that the woman who chaired the committee is a friend of a friend, and absolutely knew my application materials, and that I am perfectly qualified. Oh, and that rejection letter came on my birthday.

            As to the question above, Dr. Chop has had several rejection letters in the form of revise and resubmit. Those letters have helped shape the direction of a paper, and have often provided her with an idea of where to take her research next.

            1. A while back, I was writing short stories and submitting them to various literary journals (not my day job). I had a 3-ring binder with all of my rejection letters. I've been rejected by some of the best journals in America.

              After 24 such letters, I finally landed, and the next 3 submissions were published, albeit not in as high-brow journals as I wished, but hey.

              1. I've been rejected by some of the best journals in America.

                It's too bad you didn't ® that line, as I'm going to start using it all the time.

              2. I've been rejected by some of the best journals in America.

                This is essentially where I'm at right now with poetry – trying to find a place that sees what I'm trying to do as worthy. Congratulations on getting your stories into print, NBB.

                1. My first pub was rejected by the number 2 journal in my field. And then accepted at the number 1 journal in my field. Go figure.

        2. Our organization used to give personalized, phone call rejections. Now we get so many applicants it's a bit overwhelming. Plus, it can be really awkward to tell someone that we like you just fine but you need to work on empathy, or whatever.

  2. Did you know you can recreate the Pac-man sound by sticking your finger in the opening to your ear canal and wiggling it back and forth?

  3. Feeling mortality's pull today. Found out a good friend of mine from HS passed away on Saturday at the age of 55. Rich was a kind, generous soul with a wonderfully wry sense of humor. I am not alone when I say he will be missed.

      1. tougher for him, obviously

        Tougher for his loved ones. We can all have hope he's doing just fine at this point.

    1. Ugh - Sorry to hear it Bootsy.

      Learned this past week that an attorney I clerked for for a couple of years is home from the hospital for good - terminal brain cancer first detected about 18 months ago. I could cut & paste your description of Rich for Tim, who finished high school about the same time I did.

  4. Dr. Fear: Given your age, it's time to get your colonoscopy.

    (Before calling the G.I. place to book an appointment, I asked a guy at work (5-7 years older than me) about what is involved.)

    Me: Hey, how much time is needed for th' colo' thing?
    He: Well, you get a powderishly thing to drink day before, and no solids after that, and many trips down the hallway...
    Me: Do I have to take time off from work?
    He: No, after the prep, the process is quick - you show up, sit and wait, and after they drug you up, it goes real fast, and soon-after the Dr. is having a cigarette. (my heehaw here, this guy isn't usually that quick)
    He: You definitely need to get your checkup. I had mine 5 years ago - family history, etc. - mother died of colon cancer - they removed several polyps in my last checkup - have to go in again in a couple months...
    Me: (gulp)

    1. Must be going round...

      I'm in for an early screening next week. Some things may not be right, or it might just have been a rough weekend in New Orleans. I've had my plumbing checked before, and, brother, the prep is far worse than the exam. Good luck, bo.

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