A few mornings ago I went to my door, there was fancy post (i.e. doesn't immediately look like bills, which usually ends up being bills). Looking at it for a moment, there was something familiar, I recognize my own handwriting.. come to think of it that's also my home bargains envelope. Within it was the collection of poetry I had sent out to a poetry journal I love, with a typed letter of comments in general about the turning points of the journal. However, scrawled in the corner was a small sentence.. in the pen of the editor. I was ecstatic.
Nothing is being published but I'm still very excited about the whole experience. I've finally received my first rejection, because it is my first submission. The cycle has begun. At job interviews I always say it's just nice to have heard back, to know that your time hasn't gone to nothing and even a rejection is news. Now, I can go off and submit to whoever and whatever I like because I've already felt rejection. And who knows, maybe one day it'll be acceptance, or more feedback, and for those I will be equally enthusiastic. It'll at least spur me to write another blog post.