not an award winner

Way back in December 2016, which seems like a million years ago now, I won an award for writing. It was the first one I had ever won. It was a strange feeling to win --so odd, in fact, I wrote a blog post about it, as one does when one is prone to process life through written words. Here's that blog post: award winner?

Because I am a compulsive teacher as well as a compulsive writer, I feel the need to write that post's companion. This one is about a theme as familiar as old clothing, yet it feels as comfortable as I hear a hairshirt is supposed to be. 

I entered a contest some months back. I worked as hard as I could on the story. I sent it in. The winners' names were revealed and ...nothing. Not a winner, not a finalist, not a runner up. The story (my story) was "released". Not that kind of "released". The other kind --the kind more closely associated with discontinuing employment.

It is a disappointment. No one writes a story to be told "no, thank you". No one edits to be ignored. There is always that hope in there that something you needed to say connected with an audience. There are times, though, when the answer is crickets and tumbleweed.

Here is where I kick into writer self-help mode. This is why I'm writing this post. I'm not into humiliating myself. It's because I know that I am not the only person who goes through this, and maybe I do something that would be helpful for you to try unless everything you write is accepted for publication and is universally lauded (which, frankly, smacks of delusion).

What I am doing:

1. Reviewing the old blog post. I am fortunate to have something to look back on where I suspect an objective third-party liked something I wrote. I say "I suspect [they] liked" it because of the prize. Which brings me to number two ...

2. Remembering that people read it and enjoyed it. There is always the suspicion in there that the people reading it were being nice, but I was fortunate in that the people gave very specific feedback and that is what told me it might not all be kindness to my poor writer's ego. (An aside: if you read for a friend, please be honest --not brutal, mind, but say what you liked and what didn't work for you.)

3. Remembering that reading is a subjective experience. What I like may not be for you, or maybe it is. It is all dependent on individual tastes. In this case, my taste was not the same as the judges' taste. I looked to see what won. That helped me understand further what their taste was and to see what worked for them, and to understand it was the wrong piece for that audience.

4. Thinking about the details of new projects. It is hard to think about disappointment when you're thinking about what to do with a particular scene or a particular character. Or you can focus on what's going on around you. Basically, think about something else. No one can think about two things at once.

and, my favorite,

5. Sillying or listening to music. Both of these things help me feel better. Laughing about nothing is enjoyable. Music is that thing without words that makes the world take on a brighter aspect.

What do you do that helps you handle writer (or other) disappointment?