Poetry Report: Tolling Lordward

Rejection Slip Society Awards Local Author Highest Honor

Nothing thickens the skin of an emerging writer than weathering the storm of rejection slips which come with the game of submission we scribes tend to play. I should know—after twenty years of submissions, I own a stack of NO as tall as one of my doorstop novel manuscripts.

In other words, I know how this brutal seasoning feels—at first it stings, later you realize it’s a necessary step. The process could be seen like crossing a gurgling stream on moss-covered rocks for a pearl which awaits on the other side. You risk failure, even injury, in getting to the prize. If you’re not willing to take that risk, one must satisfy the urge for adventure and reward instead by watching others with the ‘right stuff’ make the attempt.

As one who already pushed through the initial stage of short story and novel rejections to become published, when I began my poetry journey two years ago I jumped into the rushing waters well prepared to withstand what would likely be a long process of seeking external validation. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I suspected my quirky poems, which by my own admission often seem to skirt along the edge of actual sense-making, would possibly be received as polarizing.

Despite such concerns, however, I got validation almost immediately in the fall of 2019, including an acceptance that came with a lovely nomination for the journal’s ‘Bukowski Award’. My work didn’t win, but still… it was the first poem I ever got accepted. And blessed as it seemed from the most-high ‘Hank’ himself? My wife had to pick me up off the floor.

And, as a bonus, it wasn’t long before another journal picked up all three pieces I had submitted. My first year as a poet, 2019, turned out strong, almost embarrassingly so.

But since then…?

Nothing.

Rejection after rejection.

However:

“Please do not hesitate to submit again at a later date.”

“While these poems sing, unfortunately they just didn’t hit the exact note we were looking for in this issue. We hope you’ll consider submitting to us again in the future. You’re always welcome here.”

“Although we really enjoyed the creativity of your submission, it does not fit our current editorial needs. ‘Deep Sight Folderol’ was our favorite. Our editors thought these poems had snippets of brilliant imagery and vocabulary. We think these poems demonstrate great technical mastery.”

“Our staff found much to admire in your submission, and we do hope that you will try us again.”

As well as a few more, including one in which the editor suggested, indeed, that the work had caused division among the gatekeepers. I imagined the adherents of the piece arguing for its merits, with others suspicious, perhaps, of both my methods and intention.

Good. I couldn’t be happier. I don’t need the acceptance—that rejection was the best ever. The work had caused strong reactions, both positive and otherwise. For what more could a poet, or any artist, hope but to provoke reactions?

And so, we have the fuel to persevere onward. Two rejections came in the time since I started writing this post. One of them was encouraging—no to this batch, but we welcome your work anytime. And that’s good enough to keep writing.