The 7 Stages of ReJection

Stage 1 – Shock

No.  There is no mistake.

Some advice:

Stop making that face immediately. Nobody wants to see that.

Stage 2 – Denial

Well, what else are you gonna do?  Write a strongly worded letter to the contest/publisher/artistic director in question calling them a loser and telling them to go do something explicit to a body part with a plunger household item?

Some advice:

Don’t do that.

Stage 3 – Anger

After all the time and Energy and Sweat Blood Tears  MISSED HOURS OF AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL SLEEP, THEY HAVE REJECTED YOU IN A POORLY FORMATTED, UNORIGINAL FORM LETTER.

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHHHHH

STELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAA
WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

SOME BLEEPIN’ ADVICE:

Put down the bat.

Do not punch a mirror.  Or a wall.  Maybe a pillow.  Or your sister’s stuffed rabbit.

Stage 4 – Depression

As soon as you punch that rabbit, the anger dissipates, replaced by a deep sadness that makes you want to rip off your pants, put on your fuzzy robe and eat every donut in the world.

Some advice:

Do not listen to Enya.

Or Sarah Machaksfjsjadj Mclachlan.
Do take off your pants.  That’s an automatic win.

Stage 5 – Jealousy

SO.  Bob Jim and Mary Lou Who’s plays were “good enough”?
Yeah well, I heard that their plays SUCK AND KICK PUPPIES.
THAT’S FINE, I DON’T EVEN WANNA BE ASSOCIATED WITH A THEATRE COMPANY WHO CHOOSES PLAYS THAT KICK PUPPIES, I LISTEN TO SARAH MCLACHLAN

Some advice:

Don’t eat mice feel bad.  Feel the feeling.  Accept the feeling.  Then kick it in its ass and move on.

Stage 6 – Acceptance

Finally.  The clouds have parted.  You have stumbled across a few new contests to enter.  Your friends have brought you beer.
Lots of beer.
You’re drunk
Things ain’t so bad.

Some advice:

Don’t sing Koombaya.  That’s totally cliche and unoriginal.

Stage 7 – Blogging

Or you know, something else fun.  Like skeetball.  Or sky diving.

Some advice:

Never stop writing.  Never stop submitting.
And never forget to laugh.