You know how everyone says to keep all your rejection letters? Like medals, or badges, or awards?
Tonight, as I picked my way through revisions, I somehow started reading old rejection letters from when TIB was on sub. It was weird. I haven't read them in a year, at least. Or more.
And in a way it was painful, like pricking my eyeballs with needles - or like digging up old sad memories.
But it was also invigorating. Like the March wind that's slamming against my windows right now and the March rain/snow/hail/sun that's blowing through Seattle this week.
In two ways, I was convicted and compelled to dig deep, past the excuses I make to not revise.
They're not nasty revision letters, or form letters, or even harsh - now that months and months of time separates them from my writing brain. They're actually encouraging. Full of we love your writing and we'd love to see your next manuscript and things that make me feel tingly and capable again. Like maybe I'd be more foolish to give up.
And I want to prove that I can.