The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: pain

  • Three Rules for Surviving Rejection

    By this point in your life, you know that rejection hurts. Criticism hurts. No matter how tough you are or how much you try to shrug it off, it is going to hurt. Everyone will say it isn’t personal. But it is your writing. You created it, a product of your conscious and subconscious. What could be more personal, short of someone calling your baby ugly?

    It is going to hurt. But that is okay. Rejection and criticism are just pain. If you workout or practice any sport, you know that pain makes you stronger. It makes you better. You learn from it. Pain teaches you quickly and efficiently. When you get rejected, when you feel the bite of criticism, just remember “pain is weakness leaving the body.”

    That cliché, used in a variety of sports, is a good thing to remember when you are submitting your writing for critique or publication. Building a tolerance to rejection and criticism allows you to create a distance between you and your writing. Don’t get me wrong, it is a small distance, similar to sitting on opposite ends of the couch with your writing rather than whispering sweet nothings to it just prior to copping a feel. It is a healthy distance, one that allows you to think of the work rather than yourself. (more…)

  • Truth Hurts, but It’s Worth It

    Stories like this are tricky. Ultimately, they’re subjective. All I can do is lay out the events as I see them, and you have to understand that I’m giving you a single point of view. This is my own admittedly biased experience, and others in this tale could take exception to my interpretation. Be that as it may, this is the event that I feel has done the most to shape me into the writer I am today.

    Growing up, my brothers and I hit the daily double of childhood. We were both rural and poor, and from an early age we were taught to distrust authority. Most of our conversations with non-related adults consisted of the following phrases: “I don’t know,” and “they’re not here right now.” The tenants of our family were simple and observed like dogma: support it, defend it, and keep everything in house.

    If you weren’t blood, our affairs were none of your damned business, and marrying in didn’t necessarily afford you with a right to know.

    As a child, this sort of fierce loyalty appealed to me, and I saw something noble and good in its application. My brothers and I belonged to something greater than ourselves, and we thought it was something worth defending. I no longer feel that way.

    (more…)