there's rejection and then there's FU rejection

The more you submit, the more you hear no. This is a fact for anyone in the creative world and a certainty for unknown writers like me. At least as a writer, the no is delivered via e-mail, so I can read when I'm ready. I remember going to a friend's comedy shows and the squirming shared horror when his jokes didn't land, or he got heckled and was unable to adequately snap back.

While rejection always feels bad, and makes me question my credentials as a writer and even as a human daring to breathe air and exist, the way it's delivered matters. A lot. The rejection Tin House sent me this week was a reminder. A slap-in-the-face reminder. 

I'll note that I've mostly stopped submitting anywhere that charges a substantial fee. You could spend hundreds of dollars a month just submitting to journals. It's the ol' pay for play and I hate it. Recently a writer friend recommended I submit a project to Tin House and even though it cost $25 (plus another chunk I chipped in to fund less privileged writers) I unwisely decided to give it a go.

Here's the form letter rejection. I really enjoyed the "don't even think of asking us for feedback" snark at the end. Joking aside, this is on the truly terrible end of the spectrum. Is it a PNW thing? A Tin House thing? I don't know.

I read for a respected journal and while it's true there are a fair number of less-than-spectacular submissions, we treat writers with respect and send encouragement when we can.

Here are 2 other rejections I've received lately. They are kinder, acknowledging the effort I put in and encouraging me to keep going. Form letters too, of course, but with a shred of humanity.

AGNI

Juked

 

more of what I'm watching

Last night was a treat. I watched "Becoming Black" on Kanopy. What an incredible movie. The filmmaker, Ines Johnson-Spain grows up half-African in very white East Germany, and only discovers in her late twenties the truth about her heritage. It shares themes with "Little White Lie."

This theme of families and secrets continues to resonate with me. The vast gulf between Johnson-Spain in the scenes with her German father--cautious, face drawn, having to talk over him to get her point across--and then with her family in Togo, where she smiles and gazes lovingly at photos of her father and other family members, learning the family tree as though it were a beloved poem.

don't let anyone rob you of your imagination

"Don't let anyone rob you of your imagination, your creativity or your curiosity. It's your place in the world; it's your life.  Go on and do all you can with it and make it the life you want to life." 

This quotation from engineer and first black woman in space Mae Jemison is posted in Seattle's Central District. Who's the artist? I've seen similar work, last summer featuring Harriet Tubman, in Columbia City.

finally yes rain

After a terribly dry and deadly hot summer, it's a mercy to finally receive rain. True PNW-ers have felt anxious about the ongoing drought, felt a constant low sizzle of worry as Labor Day came and went, as September wore on and all that fell was sprinklings of dusty drizzle. 

Last Friday, at a friend's island cabin, I woke in the night to hear a steady thrum of raindrops on the skylight. Relief washed over me like a sigh and I fell contentedly back to sleep. Rain. It poured, on and off, all weekend, on the body-armored border guards hassling us on our way out of the country, drenching the pink-haired raver girl walking across into BC, soaking my leggings as I shivered on a Vancouver street corner, remembering the umbrella at home on my table. 

At the hotel, a seagull perched on our window ledge, watching side-eyed as we settled in. Seagulls remind me of Mom, and this visitor felt like a rainy welcome. To be wet was wonderful.

this was my view

This was my view last week for a few days, a cozy beach-side cabin with views of Puget Sound. Lots of rocky shore walks, lazy mornings on the porch with coffee, gleefully re-watching "Undercover Brother" with someone else's Prime video (thanks Khalil). 

break time

It's not the vacation I had planned, but busysmartypants is heading out for a few days. Hoping to safely see some friend and family. See y'all on the flip.

there's no such thing as a dream job

If year two of the panini hasn't radicalized you, what will?

Even I, living in a so-called liberal city in a blue state, working at a nominally progressive workplace, I feel radicalized. And tired. Beyond tired. Exhausted. I realized this week that my supervisor is a selfish gaslighter and has chosen to align with those in power, and not with us, or me. Together my peers and I achieved some concessions, but it was hard and draining and humiliating.

So. 

Decision time. 

In the meantime, enjoy this toast-making video. 

AND this incredible skate dance.

And follow the Nap Ministry:

"Capitalism has stripped a part of our human-ness. It works in robot/machine mode. So, it’s radical to embrace all the beautiful and painful things that make us human. Rest connects us back to what we are."

it must be said (fuck Texas)

fuck texas (and yes love it too)

 

the problem with crossword puzzles

I’ve been a fairly avid crossword puzzler for a couple of years. Insomnia is a constant visitor and I use the puzzles as a way to occupy and calm my brain until I can go to sleep. They’re also great for stressful situations like a stormy, choppy ferry ride.

I keep a stack of unsolved puzzle books at the ready on a shelf, plowing through a 100 or so every couple of months. Vowel-plentiful words and phrases that were initially unfamiliar to me are now like old friends: nene, olio, atilt, kegler, oda. I know that for a clue that inclues “dry” the word is most likely arid or sere. Area of a church? Apse or nave.

What I didn’t expect to find is white supremacy, but guess what? Like dust bunnies and mansplainers, good ol’ misogyny lives and thrives in quiet corners.

I’ll demonstrate.

I reviewed 5 crossword books, 4 Collector’s Crosswords, and 1 Herald Tribune, all published by Kappa in 2020 or 2021, for a total of 528 crosswords. Here’s my very informal count of 102 problematic clues. That’s about one problematic clue per 5 crosswords.

Confederacy	49
Sexism	40
Conservatism	3
Copaganda	2
Homophobia	1
Racism	5

By Confederacy, I mean I counted clues about Robert E. Lee or the CSA or rebs or “Gone With the Wind.” If there were equally as many clues naming Union generals or Abraham Lincoln or the Emancipation Proclamation or a Spike Lee joint, it might be slightly less problematic. But as you may have guessed, there aren’t.

Equally as numerous are clues referencing “ogling” and “leering.” Normalizing staring creepily at women’s bodies, sure. Let’s make that a common clue.

And of course it wouldn’t be America without additional racism beyond fetishization of the losers of the Civil War so we’ll name white voyagers as “discoverers” of various sites.

You can view the whole list here.

I don’t want to give up crosswords, but I do want crosswords to do better.

Words and ideas matter.

Do better.