Writing: All the Feels

If anyone tells you writing is not an emotional thing, don’t believe it. Writing can be quite the emotional roller-coaster, and a recent experience illustrated that fact.

One night a few weeks ago, I was feverishly working on my latest project, ancillary writing for an educational company. It was a perfect project for me (I’m a teacher in real life), not to mention my biggest contract ever. Thankful for the work.

My last LARGE deadline was looming—the clock was ticking, the fat lady was warming up her voice, Elvis was getting close to the exit . . . well, you get the picture (Yes, I love a good cliché). I was feeling pretty good, surges of relief flowing through my veins, as it looked like I was going to finish ahead of time. Hey, this writing thing might work out after all.

Here I was, about 30 minutes’ worth of work left, and I decided I needed a break. That inner procrastinator was not totally under submission. I figured I would check my email before looking for a snack. I need energy for the journey.

In my inbox was an email from a book editor, the one I had sent a proposal to a couple of months earlier. The educational work had consumed my writing life so much that I had nearly forgotten about the proposal, for a project I’ve labored on for years. This could be it.

There I was, “in the zone,” on the brink of completing a big freelance project, and now I was going to get my first book contract. Kathie Lee and Hoda will be calling any minute.

I read the email, and it was a rejection. Bubble burst!

Once I got my feelings of disappointment under control, I studied the email a bit closer and realized it was the NICEST rejection I’ve ever received. It was obvious the editor had taken the time to read my work, mentioning many specific things and offering some genuine praise. There was also an open offer for me to send additional pieces and encouragement for me to keep submitting my work to other places. Not bad.

I’d like to say I brushed off this rejection and returned effortlessly to my educational work. I’d LIKE to say that, but I CAN’T. As nice as the wording was, it was still a rejection, and it still stung a little. I brooded for a while, ate that snack—a guy has to keep his energy up, after all—and eventually met my deadline two days ahead of schedule. I also whispered some prayers, sensing that still, small voice. Keep going.

Writing truly has all the feels. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just more acceptance letters, please.