I'd like your attention, please

in order to bring some attention to...myself. That's right. I'm revisiting a blog post I wrote on my old blog, The New Irony, in April of 2011. Bear with me.

This was a post in which I bemoaned an encouraging and kind rejection and wallowed in all kinds of self-doubt, from a story I was working on at the time to long-term writing prospects. Doubt. Wallow. Repeat! 

I got a particularly heartbreaking–though kind–rejection from the Paisano fellowship at UT yesterday.  Then I cried a lot. I thought me and them might really have something.  I can’t seem to get many other people on board with my Texas stories, so why not some people in Texas looking for Texas stories? Twice the director said they hoped to see more work.  He called my writing wonderful, said there were just too many fine writers like myself.  The email was really nice, and I know later I’ll appreciate how hard it is to even get close. Yesterday I just felt sad and sort of discouraged.

Then I bemoaned other good-bad rejections I've gotten from journals. And finally, I decided to force some positivity on the situation and end with a little Aaliyah and Soul II Soul.

So, if you've been reading at all (and I know there are at least one or two of you. Hi, Mom!), you know that I reapplied to the Paisano Fellowship the following year, and what do you know--I now live and write (with the water moccasins, road runners, and coyotes) at Paisano Ranch! At first I didn't succeed. Turns out, I could dust it off and try again. Who knew.

As for the strange story-novel-poetry collection I was bitching about, that became "What Good is an Ark to a Fish?", and Cal Morgan graciously picked that up for the Harper Perennial anthology Forty Stories. 

I know, I know. This is all old news. But I was looking at my old blog (for something work related. Seriously. It's not all navel-gazing around here. Well. Not entirely.). But every now and then a little reflection makes you realize that...

Too much reflection just makes you an insufferable asshole. Or really depressed. But sometimes you realize that your efforts aren't always futile and that sporadic as your choices seem, sometimes you may actually be on an path carved with intention and work. What am I saying?

Soul II Soul said it best.

Anyway, I've got to get to work over here. I have no idea where to step next. Cheers, friends.