Paper bag

I was a fifth-grader when I got my first taste of publication. A poem I wrote, which won in the district level of a poem-writing contest, was published by our school organ, Ang Tinig (The Voice). This would go on until high school, when I became the literary editor (and later, Associate Editor) of The Paulinian Times, our school paper. At university I didn’t get involved with student publication, though I didn’t stop writing what-I-thought-of-as-poetry.

In 1995, weeks after the U.P. National Summer Writers’ Workshop, a couple of my poems got published in the Philippine Free Press. I published my first short story over year later (in The Evening Paper), months after attending the Dumaguete National Summer Writers’ Workshop. From 1995 to 2001 I would send my poems and stories to various magazines and publications. I got my published almost always, but of course, I also endured rejections. Work deterred me from continuing the routine of submitting my written work and now, many years later, I am feeling the itch again.

This happened recently.

Me (4 weeks ago):

Dear (CEO/Publisher),

Thank you for taking the time to read this humble letter. I am hoping to hear from you or your good office.

CEO/Publisher (4 hours after my email was sent to him):

Hi —,

Send me 2 stories to evaluate and I will get back to you in about two weeks from when I receive them.

Me (frantic):

Chose the 4 ‘best’ stories in the said collection. Asked friends and what-not to read these effusions and to select 2 that they liked most. Entire process took over two weeks. When 2 stories emerged with the most number of votes, only one was subsequently chosen for submission. The second story was chosen via an ‘executive decision’.

Chosen stories were submitted September 15, at 2PM.

Dear Sir,

I will look forward to hearing your feedback in the weeks to come.

CEO/Publisher (8 hours after my email submission):

Hi —,

Read your stories. You know how to write. Too bad they’re not my type of stories. I find them too inward–nothing happens outside, lots of angst inside. Also too slow and plodding. Walang dating.

Sorry, don’t think I can sell your stories. Try another publisher.

So there.

This was probably the fastest rejection I got in my very short literary career. In fairness to the esteemed publisher, I really appreciate his prompt responses (first, to my inquiry then to my submission), outcome notwithstanding. Some can argue that he probably didn’t read the whole thing, or that he was probably too quick to judge the stories, etc. But I won’t. I mean, even if it were true, he was just exercising his prerogative(s).

I’m not going to ask for a second chance to submit other stories. I’d probably need a couple of seconds to lick my wounds, so to speak, but I’m okay with it. Frankly, I’m amazed at how well I am handling this rejection. Maybe because this is not the first (literary) rejection that I got; and I know that it won’t be the last as well.

The itch is still here, like recurrent crabs… Okay, bad analogy… But you get the point, right? I believe my book is going to happen in its own, good, and appointed time.

You’ll see.