A Writer's Notebook, Day Eight-Hundred-And--Sixty-Five

 I am still in much the same mentality as yesterday, especially having received multiple rejections today, but I am attempting to keep my focus on the work I am doing.  It is difficult, as I would like to have some sense that my efforts will allow me to proceed towards my career goals, not only my artistic ones, and the evidence of ny current predicament suggests otherwise.


I do believe I am making progress as an artist, but even determining that seems impossible without some form of meaningful, positive response.  I have received various positive comments, thoughts most are simply a line encouraging submitting further work, and it often feels, at present, as if I am being told nu work is of an appropriate quality to be published, just no one wants to publish it.  I believe that my writing has merit, or, at least, that within the large quantity of work I have amassed, there are some good poems.  I have faith that the writing I am doing will be valued, one day, and I wish I could be happy trusting that.  It would be easier if that were enough, if holding that idea could mitigate the feeling of failure that this unmitigated rejection has aroused.

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