Two new rejections in the mailbox, today: nothing like a nice set of SASEs to welcome you home on a subzero day.
Also in my mailbox were a threatening letter from the gas company, that appears to have already corrected itself, the new Calamari Press book, Blake Butler's Ever, and a pair of new fake glasses I ordered, after I lost my previous pair at a party during the Jac Jemc Social Extravaganza Parade of Wild Nights Out. Apparently the exchange rate for my Homebody Card is one pair of thick-framed fake glasses, that I like to wear to become another person, and some hazy regrets that I am now attributing to that glasses-wearing individual who took me over.
2 out of 5 pieces of mail were positive, but I paid for them, so that's sort of like giving yourself a pat on the back for getting laid when you call a hooker. Nonetheless, I will enjoy putting on my new fake glasses, becoming a new someone else, and reading Ever as soon as I finish reading Kathleen Rooney's Live Nude Girl.
Rejection 128 is a bittersweet half-sheet of paper which both informed me that my work was not found suitable for Another Chicago Magazine, which was not very good news, but also provided proof that they are still alive. Their website hasn't changed in about a million years, so I was beginning to mourn their loss, when indeed they are just a bit behind. They scooted their rejection over to me just short of 11 months after I sent the submission, for the record.
Rejection 129 was sent from The Cincinnati Review, which in all honesty, was probably submitted in some other drunken haze. Why I bother sending work to "The Insert City or State Name Here Review" is a little beyond me in my present, coherent state. Maybe I read a thing or two from one of them that I like? Maybe I think if someone regularly reads The Cincinnati Review (Are there people out there that regularly read The Cincinnati Review?) and reads my bio, it might bring more people over to the smaller print and online magazines? Do I want that? Would that be a good thing? Maybe I just want to crack that egg for some unknown reason? It's rare the urge overtakes me, but here's proof that anything can seem like a good idea with a little bit of ambition and a tumbler of Maker's Mark by your side.
I think I'll start an AWP countdown. Maybe that will be the thing to finally kick my ass into writing my story for Quickies. 26 Days before I turn in my Homebody Card again.
Stay warm, folks.