Once every semester, the English department at Aberystwyth University publishes a literary magazine. It is a collection of poems and short stories written by students. On the advice of a friend, I re-wrote an old poem and sent it off. They accepted my submission. The poem will feature in the next issue.
Crippling doubt plagued me. This anxiety wasn’t unfounded; I submitted a poem last semester, too. It wasn’t good. At all. There was no skill or thought put into it. Just a hurried mess of words loosely related to the theme. No poetic techniques. No subtlety. Just nonsense. Unsurprisingly, the poetry editor rejected it. I’m glad she did, but the rejection still affected me. When you’re starting out as a writer, rejection is a bitch. It really hurts. The accumulation of rejection emails and letters doesn’t help your self-confidence. I managed to convince myself that nothing I wrote would ever get printed, and I’d never read my words on a page.
It’s alright to feel this way. It is healthy. If you’re a writer – or an artist in any capacity – rejection is absolutely necessary. I don’t mean to be condescending; my work isn’t being published in The Guardian or The New York Times. It’s being published in a university-exclusive literary magazine. But it’s a start, right? I’m not downplaying the quality or importance of the magazine. It is an honour to have been accepted. I am certain the other people who submitted work experienced just as much self-doubt as I did.
Artists and creators fluctuate between two moods. One day, they think they’re the greatest person alive. The next, they feel as though they don’t deserve to exist, and their work will never see the light of day.
Publication is not the key to happiness, but it does remind you that your work is actually worth reading. That all the effort does pay off in the end. I want to publish novels, short stories, poetry, articles, essays. I know that there’s a long road of rejection ahead. I accept that. It is never personal. Editors know what the readers want. They will give it to them. If your work is selected, great. If it isn’t selected, your life isn’t over – take a moment to recover and get back to it.
Question your work, your abilities, your existence… but keep writing. Then you will realise that publication is only part of the journey, not the destination.
Iestyn Tudor 