We’ve made it to the final week of our January speedrun! Before we embrace our rejections, let’s pause to recall how we got here.
You chose to create something new, perhaps a flash fiction or nature photography. After letting it rest, you took the time to revise your writing or art. Then you were brave enough to submit your new creative endeavor. All these steps deserve celebration: Hooray! 🎉 Yippee! 🤩 Woot! 👍

🎵I get knocked down, but I get up again🎵
Week 4: January 26th–31st, 2025
When I submitted my image-prompted fiction January 20th, I’d hoped to enthusiastically share my rejection for this post. But I’m still holding my breath for the verdict. In the same boat? While waiting for the rejections to roll in, ponder the possibilities (#0054).
In looking over the submission list from last week (#0069), I read some back issues of one of them and thought it could be a good fit for a piece I’d written previously.1 (Another of the weird variety: is it a poem with footnotes? A narrative nonfiction piece with lyrical lines?) When I contacted the place to find out if they’d review my weird creation, I got encouragement, so I submitted.
A day later, I received a personal rejection email. Here’s a portion: [Your piece was] “not quite the right fit for this issue. Curating a collection to maintain cohesiveness involves many criteria and is not necessarily indicative of the quality of the submission…” Was I crushed? For about 90 seconds (#0018). I reread the email, which included an invitation to submit future work, then I chose to
Embrace Rejection: Because rejection is not a referendum on your work.
A tip and a thought: I replied to the rejection email, thanking the editor for taking the time to consider my submission. Don’t burn bridges! When submitting at the end of an open window, I recognize I run the risk of my piece not fitting into the larger expectations of the issue. Some journals have explicitly themed issues while other places discover underlying themes in the submissions received and lean into them. Unless it’s a (rare) themed issue, Inlandia’s journal evaluates each submission on its own. It is what it is.
This month I set my sights on submitting to two of the quick turnaround poetry journals. Which meant I needed to, ummm, write some poetry.2 But my mind kept bouncing from one vague concept to another with nothing that kept my attention. (Sound familiar?) Via another place on the sub list, I discovered weekly poetry prompts in the form of an image and word. Exactly what I needed.
After I composed a half dozen short free-verse poems and left them to rest overnight, I revised all but one. Then I had lunch and checked the guidelines, which stated I could submit up to five poems. So I went all in with the five.
Why the rush? To have time before the end of the month to submit to the second journal where I wanted to submit, which does not accept simultaneous submissions.
Perhaps my speediness contributed to this rejection email sent the following day:
Dear Erin Michaela Sweeney,
Thank you for your poetry. I'm grateful for the chance to read it. Unfortunately, we could not find a place for your writing in our next issue [redacted]. We hope you'll consider resubmitting in the future!
Sincerely,
[redacted]
This rejection is form. Though it addresses me by name, there’s no mention of the number of poems or their titles. Nothing personal.
Two things, though, kinda confuse me. Why go from first-person singular to first-person plural (I to We)? And do they mean for me to resubmit the same poems in the future or submit some other poems in the future? After pondering the oddness of the English language for a bit, I chose to
Embrace Rejection: Because rejection simply means redirection.
Sometimes a rejection gives clues on how to further revise for perhaps an acceptance in the future. In this situation, I use redirection to mean submitting to the second place.
Hoping to share rejection news next time on the image-prompted fiction, the packet of poems, and another something still in process. In the meantime, please share your thoughts on this January speedrun!
Embrace Rejection: Because rejection shows you’re trying.
Next time: Reflections on the speedrun.
Yes, I cheated by submitting something old rather than something new. Maybe I should borrow something blue?
Quick turnaround: pitching articles (rather than sending complete essays). Rejection or acceptance comes pretty quick.