Recently I got back the word from a story I'd submitted to Carina Press. I'd almost expected the 'sorry, we enjoyed it but it doesn't fit. Publishing is a subjective industry..." so on and so forth. I read it, read it again, and then archived it.
After some consideration it hit me. I was numb, then I got upset, then mad...and then I finally said to myself that finding a home that fits the story is vital. A great story needs a great home...and my writing style is very much outside of the cookie cutter mold. Was this story one I wanted to go to that house? Yes. Did I have a back-up plan for it...no, not really.
It was only when I got the big "R" that I realized that I'd been looking for that rejection. In a way I'd already anticipated and accepted getting it. Basically, I shot myself in the foot, subconciously at least. Doesn't necessarily mean that I knew it...heck I went in anticipating the 'Yes we love it' but my reaction when I didn't get it was different.
Rattling around in my head has been the question of "Why?". Why wasn't I more upset, more tears and tissues, recriminations and tantrums? Why did I simply look elsewhere to send the novel? So far I haven't really come up with an answer. Though when I do, I have a feeling that it'll be akin to a kick in the gut, because it'll be on my shoulders. Not the pubs, not the editors, nope - this will be all me.
Self-doubt and insecurities can lead a person to do some really odd things. This is one of them. Perhaps, in my own way I was telling myself that I needed to take smaller steps, to look at my goals and asperations for my career. Sadly, I have no answers at the moment.