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In late January I sent a prose poem to Star*line prose poetry issue. Bruce B. put it on hold. He liked it, but apparently not enough to buy it. So all this time I was chewing myself about this piece. How weird it was. Convoluted. Hard to understand. Nobody likes it.
Yesterday he emailed me asking to change the title to something else. I wasn't so sure, emailed him back with two other variations. That was in the morning. I am very thankful for those people (you know who you are) who held my hands and thys prevented me from writing back to BB with a , "Listen, it's actually crap, I'm withdrawing."
It sold today.
Yet another poem I would have deleted upon rejection. Why is my good stuff still out there?
Yesterday he emailed me asking to change the title to something else. I wasn't so sure, emailed him back with two other variations. That was in the morning. I am very thankful for those people (you know who you are) who held my hands and thys prevented me from writing back to BB with a , "Listen, it's actually crap, I'm withdrawing."
It sold today.
Yet another poem I would have deleted upon rejection. Why is my good stuff still out there?
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I often wonder the same thing after my sales. The stuff that I sell and the editors seem to love are stories that I like okay (they wouldn't go out otherwise), but not the ones I love.
The ones I love get lots of friendly rejections, and "not right for this market"-s. They tend to stay in perpetual circulation looking for the right home.
Stephen King wrote that we're often too close to our own writing to see what's good and what's bad. There's a lot of truth in that.
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