If you’re here for the sequel to the migraine saga, this is not the post you are looking for. /waves hand to punctuate Jedi mind powers… 

One has to reach the conclusion before they are able to write the conclusion and though I feel I’m almost out of the woods (*hopefully*) I don’t want to jinx it by flaunting my triumph over the latest cluster. The Universe can be a Mother…

So what, instead, shall I delve into today. What’s on my ever-burning mind? Oh just a little thing called the pub update. For newbies just now tuning in, this is not a review of the latest pub I’ve visited (though that might be good too), it’s the latest and greatest news on my personal publication front. 

When it comes to the writer’s journey, or the writer’s life, most of the talk is about rejection. That’s because most of what one encounters is rejection. Call it a “decline” a “pass” a “thanks but no thanks” or a “maybe next time, send another poem and more money and we’ll see” or whatever else. Dress that bitch up anyway you like but #truth is… that’s rejection and it’s downright rotten. Can I get an /amen ??! Holey moley, friends. 

I’m mostly impervious to the stab of it. The one word that shows up in almost every rejection letter is “unfortunately.” The form letter is usually the blandest shit sandwich…

“We’re grateful to have the opportunity to read your work. Unfortunately it’s not a good fit right now. We still think you are a great person and wish you the best of luck.”

Maybe there’s a kick in the bals like “no thanks, but please like and follow us on these 5 social media platforms, subscribe to us for a torrent of junk mail, or click this link to buy the latest print issue for all the pennies left in your bank account.” 

Ick! Does reading this make you feel as dirty as I do writing it? 

Like I stated, I’m immune to the sickness of these letters, mostly because…

1. I receive on average 3 rejection letters each week. It’s ok. I’ve made peace with the official diagnosis that I’m clinically insane based on how much I submit to lit mags. When you have 100 open submissions at all times, you get a lot of rejection. It builds an immunity, a magic protection bubble, a thick skin. 
2. I know the rejection isn’t personal so I don’t take it personal. It’s not a rejection of me, just my writing and I, as a person in the world, am not my writing. Writing is just one puzzle piece in the big jigsaw that is my life. 
3. I also know that any writing rejected has more to do with
   1. The vibe of the lit mag and what they are looking for. 
   2. The readers’ tastes and experiences. 
   3. The pile of other pieces they are reading alongside mine… and the quantity and quality of those (there could be hundreds). 
   4. And frankly, sadly, their process and the fact that any one person could have a bad day and vote “no” on something that they might otherwise like. 

So I don’t sweat the rejection letters. The torrent of bad news that hits my in-box often barely causes a blink. 

(But ask me sometime about the publications and opportunities I covet. That’s a bit of a different, sad, story) 

I didn’t intend for this to turn into a rant about rejection, but that’s the sidecar attached to our main driver. The one with the map and open road stretched out before her. The winding journey and rolling hills that are the writer’s life. Nope. My intention was to talk about success. The sunny day, the first blooms of spring, the beacons that make all those rejections seem worth it. And to share some of my own good news. 

The Universe knows I struggle with social media. On good days the prospect of sharing on the socials feels like a pain and necessary evil. On bad days I hate it and just can’t even. So this space is one of the safe zones where it feels warmer and easier to share. So here it is…. The latest…

In the last month I’ve had one essay published online, and two poems accepted for publication. Yay!! 💃❤️🎉

The essay is something I wrote after the world began gathering again in public places after the pandemic. But it’s not about the pandemic. It’s about going through major life transitions and musing about identity and purpose. Yeah, big themes. That’s me. 

You know what else is akin to my signature moves? A little existential crisis. Yup. This little flash essay has it all. 😂 

The piece is called “Party of One at the Wine Bar” and the publisher is Scrawl Place, which is a literary journal that puts a focus on connections between people and places and each piece has something to do with some physical location. In my piece, it’s the Corkscrew wine bar in Rockbrook in Omaha, Nebraska. 

I’m very pleased with how my story is presented and had a great experience with the main publisher, Andy. The piece is available at the following location: 

Party of One at the Wine Bar

The other bits of good news are the two poems I’ve had accepted by publishers in the past couple weeks. 

First is a poem I’ve been working on and submitting for years, “When I say this poem comes to me.” As a stats nerd, I can verify that I have never worked so long, had so many different versions of, and submitted so often this singular poem. #truth I’m happy that it’s finally found a home with Summerset Review. The runway for them is pretty long and the poem will not debut until fall or winter. So this one will get lots of time on the “forthcoming” list. 

The second is a newer poem, but still not super new. Not like new, new, December 2024 new. More like 2023 new. 🙃 It’s called “Muddy Lines” and will be published online by South 85 Journal this Spring. 

Yeah, so pretty quick. The special story for the poem (because each is a unique baby, in their own way) is that I invented a new form based on a form created by a famous poet I admire, Terrance Hayes. 

The form he created is called a golden shovel. I’m calling mine the double golden shovel. It’s too much to explain plus if you are still reading I want you to keep reading so I don’t want to bore you. 😉

So those are my newest bundles of pride and joy. 

I sometimes (often) have to remind myself to pause and celebrate more. To give myself a break from all the insanity and nonsense to say to myself, you’re doing good. We should all do that more. 

And I especially need to take time to enjoy the tide when it’s riding high. 🌊 I suppose this really is the antithesis of the low tide I found myself in a few weeks ago and that’s a good lesson too. Wait a while and things will change.

Wow. It took a long time to get to the point today. If you are still reading, thanks! I had to get this done before it’s no longer March. ☘️

It’s a new week and about to be a new month and season and there’s much to do. Stay safe out there. 

Peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie