Rejection Rant (On Advice to Pare Back Rhythm)

Okay, I will admit that I am possibly a couple thousand hours of practice short of Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 Hour Plane of Artistic Achievement goal. On the other hand, since I haven't been keeping track, I may be well beyond the magic mark. Wherever I may be on this continuum, I am still mired in the great dark sea of rejection that most writers swim in like some kind of artistic purgatory . . . only occasionally spotting a light on the horizon that could be a ship steaming toward the promised land of Publication Acceptance.

That light usually turns out to be a note of encouragement scrawled on a form rejection slip. But, hey, it's a light . . . and I am usually thrilled to get a glimpse.

Not today, so much, however.

I've submitted work to a certain journal off and on over the last half-dozen years. I received a nice note once and a standard form rejection another time (apparently someone forgot to turn the light on!). Today, after four months waiting, I received my latest submission back in the mail . . . the prodigal offspring of my imagination returned for recycling.

I bear no ill-feelings over the editors' decision. I understand how many of us are swimming around and hurling submissions (which must at times seem like endless crates of stinking fish) at overwhelmed editors. And I truly appreciate the time and interest an editor takes to jot any personal words on the literally countless rejection slips sent out each year. It means a lot.

So I was flattered and humbled that one of the editors jotted that  they're " . . . honored you keep giving us a chance." What a wonderful thing to say to a half-drowned poet. 

The note went on to proclaim my poems "well crafted, but need more edge . . ." Okay, that's helpful criticism. I can target this journal with some of my edgier efforts next time. 

But, it was the closing comment that put me in mind to raise the window and step out into the freezing cold on my fire escape and yell into the night, What the f*** are you talking about?

" . . . some said, less insistent rhythm?"  Wow! 

Seriously? Poetry should be less rhythmic? That the particular editor who penned the note ended this comment with a question mark gives me hope that he or she also didn't quite know what to make of this advice. I simply could not disagree with such advice more. 

It troubles me that this fine journal has editorial staff that may think unrhythmical poetry is better poetry. I've worked too many years to develop my ear to ever go back to my early days, when the music was off-key or missing in many of my poems. 

 I don't think I can send more work to this journal. For I don't think I can strip out what rhythm I've managed to coax from the language in my poetry.  I'm disheartened that an editor is out there who thinks doing so would make my efforts more worthy of sharing with readers.