Writing is such a strange process. But sometimes I feel being a writer is stranger still. I’ve been writing for so many years and one of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt is how to handle rejections. Rejections were and are and remain a big part of the writing life. They simply mean you’re out there, rolling up your parchments of paper, placing them in a bottle and throwing it out to sea. Most times you don’t hear back, other times you get rejected. In all my years, I’ve figured out how to handle rejections. They were a matter of pride, every writer has them. I was part of the whole.
But I’ve become so desensitised to them, that I never stopped to think what happens when you get an acceptance? What happens when you win the contest? What then? My short story An Act of Kindness just won second place in the Written Circle’s Short Story prize. I don’t know how to respond to this. I’ve been oscillating between weeping and dancing and staying stock still and grinning like an idiot. This is just so overwhelmingly unfamiliar.
Writing is a strange process and being a writer is stranger still. On both counts, I guess there is more to learn.
