Imposterism!

How long does it take before you stop feeling like a damn imposter?  I've been at this writing business for more than twenty-five years and still feel like the new kid on the block. This should not be startling to other writers as we all compete for the readers' eyespace and are ever striving to provide something just enough better than all the rest so the cold-hearted editors will select ours from the avalanche of submissions. That sense of improvement and friendly competition, together with rejection upon rejection, is what gives rise to this feeling of inadequacy.  When, I ask myself, when am I going to have stature enough to not be rejected every damn time (Well, it seems that way!)

Adding to the frustration is seeing other writers (People I never heard of, damn it) getting into magazines I'd pay to be part of. Worse, their stuff is often brilliant in concept and blazing in execution, quite unlike my pedestrian plots and plodding, overworked text.  How do they pull this off?  What is their secret? No wonder two-thirds of my submissions get rejected.

I look at the pile of incomplete manuscripts cluttering my file space, the pieces that started so well and fluttered into incoherence or worse, banality. I look at those I've completed and were rejected, rejected, rejected, and rejected by editor after editor. You'd think one of them would take pity and buy one of them just so it didn't come across their desk again.  But no: none are so gracious.  Easier to choose one of those nobodies just because its a better story or something, I'd guess.

I know I am not alone with these evil thoughts, that I'm not the only wallflower at the publishing dance.  I know there are other writers that feel this way.  Perhaps we should start a ten step program: "Hello, my name is Bud and I'm a writer."

Hmm, would that work?  Might even make for a nice panel at some pity con.

#SFWApro