This is my “declined” Submittable submissions, which begin in July 2007 with a submission to Fence. My most recent rejection is from SUBMITTABLE—the site itself—which hosts a blog to which my work is not suited.
When I get a rejection I have absolutely no reaction (except when I got rejected from Submittable. That was embarrassing/notable). I am the judge of my work, me; its producer, consumer, lover, hater, and maker; and no number of rejections—or acceptances—can change that. I write because inside the world of my writing is where I can be free. 100,00 rejections can’t change that, or a prize, or a bad review, or a room of my own. That stuff has nothing to do with the place I make for myself in writing. Everyone wants to pull you away from having that place—but when you have that place, you don’t have to wait to arrive, wait for a book, wait for someone else’s approval. you’re already there, every day.