I wrote a short story set in Kenya that I made myself return to--I didn't feel like finishing it and I didn't feel any particular emotional attachment to it. Turns out that this is a good sign for me.
It's in the editing process now but it's the first story Martin has ever been 'blown away' by, if he could ever be described that way. I was so ambivalent about it, too--while I naturally jump to a first person narrator, for this story I went with a more objective, omniscient pov--and it was a good stretching exercise for me.
Of course I know you're never supposed to expect good writing out of extreme emotion, so I try not to write about anything too volatile unless I'm just venting. But I am unused to feeling quite so detached from a story. The more I edit the thing the more attached I get to it.
I try to apply the same detachment to the kapows of rejection letters, too, and I do keep my humor high. Most of the time I am very successful in that endeavor though occasionally I bow my head in a sort of melodramatic melancholy: O WOE IS ME. . . I WILL NEVER AMOUNT TO BEANS. . . .I STINK WORSE THAN GYM SOCKS. Etc.
Today I am going to be a guest speaker in a Publications Class at the University. This is my chance to bake up a big stinking humble pie so I can serve everyone a slice. These are my themes: Balancing writing with life, Rejection, Corresponding with Editors, Rejection, Juggling, Rejection, Chocolate, Rejection, Proposals, Rejection, Submissions, Rejection, Cover Letters, and--oh, yes, did I mention REJECTION?
Of course I have had some successes, and whole heaps of "almosts" and "we like you--but--" These are like tiny sprinkles of sugar sparkling on top of the enormous humble pie. This is how I will cap my talk, by cutting the pie into large slices and sliding them across the table to the students. "Eat hearty," I'll say with a wink and a guffaw.
