The Case for Rejection

Though my love life may be one of constant rejection, my writing career isn't. Well, almost. Now, I've been published--won a few awards even--but , along with my zeal for youth, that's where those achievements remained. Granted, in those years I never thought wholeheartedly of being a "real" writer. Writing was just something I liked to do: playing make-believe with pretty words. Instead of following my enjoyment, and perhaps really making something of it, I took off on a profitable yet miserable journey into the world of management. So now that I've recently been gallivanting ever towards the life of a starving artist--and assumed that label as-of-late--I've got some catching up to do. Writing is my full-time job (so where's the pay check?). I'm working on a novel, Pettjohn's Widow and a short-story "Brother's and Grapevines." I'm enthralled with both. I think (I think, mind you) that "Brothers and Grapevines" is some of my best writing since This Set of Mated Gloves, now frozen on a dead motherboard (see my upcoming post: The Case for Zip-drives). So, journals and lit mags, contests and agents, as I'm excitedly writing and revising away, hear this: REJECT ME,PLEASE. Let me catch up. Let me write and be happy. Let me be published when it's right. Let me be published, eventually.

Write on, shine on,

Thomas.

Courier Monospaced Slab Serif

I don't know one aspiring writer who isn't obsessed with length. Perhaps "real" authors aren't, but maybe you don't have to fuss over word count or page length when your rejection letters start to dwindle and treating yourself to a great glass of imported Madeira becomes a regularity. These things I don't know. What I do know is that it's a rarity that I assess my headway and think "Yes! Good progress!" This is, until I discovered (or rediscovered from my 7th Grade keyboarding class where we still used actual typewriters) that archaic font: Courier. For aeons I had been a devote of Times New Roman. It was safe and standard, and I found it more sophisticated than many other choices (perhaps I hoped to associate my writing with sophistication). In January however, a short story submission specified a Courier font. Suddenly--while proofing my piece--I found the 12-point monospaced slab serif typeface charismatic with the added bonus that it increased my work in page length. It became a psychological boon, and I find myself encouraged to write more words per sitting than I had under boring ol' Times New Roman. Lately I've found myself grinning a little oftener when I check my word count, let alone my automatically matured page numbers. Try it or not, it's helped me push my writing through this sixth snowiest winter in Minnesotan history. "Yes! Good progress!"

Write on, shine on,
Thomas.