Rejection, the sting of same.
Just had a (gracious) rejection of my new poetry MS entitled “The Music of Leaving,” from the Brooklyn Arts Press, and (as I sob) I am still on the fence re the following:
Is an outright generic rejection easier to swallow than one that laments the decision and prompts you to continue writing? Not sure… I am leaning toward the former but the nettles of this one are still deeply imbedded.
So wanted a home there.
Onwards, of course.
But not quite yet...