I am actually required by law to write a post here at least every month. The judge who imposed my stint as a blogger was very clear that failure to do so would violate my parole and necessitate me being sent to the poky for many many years for crimes against nature (I violated the speed of light). Be that as it may, of late everything I write feels lame. I read it and I think, “There is no one the world that would like to read this.” It’s not that my ability has evaporated (I hope), but I my perception of ability at times slides away. Suddenly everything I do is viewed through a lens of lameness. A bout of failures usually precipitates this. In academic journals acceptance rates hover at around 20% on exceptionally bright and sunny days. That means that rejections are the norm and you are likely spend vast energies of labor and hope only to find yourself at the realization that, it’s oh no burned again. In creative publishing I know it drops below 1%. Rejection is a way of life.
Moreover, I wasn’t nominated for a Niblet, this year. While the Niblets are not the end-all mark of blogging excellence, there is something unsettling in realizing that nothing I’ve written was remembered or marked as notable. Plus, I like the Niblets. I find them fun. That my energies have not produced anything memorable this year adds to a sense of abject lameness.
When these rejections pile up in mounds so high that to climb them requires technical gear to make the accent, I suddenly go through periods when I cannot help but feel forsaken of talent and blessed with mediocrity. I feel the rejection so clearly that I wonder why I should even go though the motions of trying and I think, “Why not save myself and the world the bother?” I become lamified with a lameness that lames me all the way down: lamification.
How do you handle rejection?