Hello my name is Emma and I’m terrified of being published. No not published really, being rejected. I’m absolutely 100% petrified of rejection. It not just rejection in general, being rejected by people or for things I don’t care about is not terrible but being rejected by people or for things you love, is the most horrific thing in the world. So, how do I avoid rejection, just don’t try. Don’t send out any of those, lets count them kids, 300+ poems you’ve written and no one will be able to tell you that you suck as a writer and should look in to becoming an accountant.
I was hoping that I would die young and that my poems would be discovered under my bed and my corpse would be hailed as the best writer since Sylvia, since Shakespeare. But since I’m not dead, and since I keep my poetry on my hard drive and not under my bed, I guess I should see how I fair with being alive and attempting to get some kind of literary accolades.
Fuck that shit! I don’t want to write for other people to read. I just want to write for myself. Well that’s a lie because I secretly wish that people would read my words and fall madly in love with me. Why aren’t any of these things happening? Why haven’t I died? Why haven’t I been discovered? Why hasn’t someone falling madly in love with my florid prose?
If you were dead it wouldn't matter how talented you were or that your prose was wise beyond its years. Live for your art, your ambition, and your drive to make something happen. That passion is what makes you madly lovable.
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