I got another rejection today. As with the other editors, they liked the concept of an Asian Chicklit but thought there were flaws in the writing. This one cited clichés, stereotypes, preachy Christian content, etc.
So of course I sent off a whiney email to
I haven't heard back from her yet, but it finally occurred to me to take it to God (duh!) and so He got the full onslaught of doubts and hurt. And then I remembered what I had believed when I first started writing: any success has to come from Him alone. Doors open because of God's will, not solely by my abilities. If He wants me to be published, I will be. If He doesn't, then no amount of critiquing and writing classes will get me there.
The memory of those idealistic days is hazy. I'd lost the fundamental core of why I picked up writing again in the first place--that trust in God's will for me, in His hand over everything that happens to me.
Yes, it hurts to hear that someone didn't fall desperately in love with my manuscript. But as I sit here with a calmer heart, I remember that God might have a specific publisher He wants this book to go to. I've told that often enough to
She told me that she has prayed for her manuscript to get in the hands of an editor she can personally bond with, so that the editing process is as productive as possible. That's a good prayer, and a vital aspect of the writing business that I hadn't thought of before.
Or maybe He doesn't want this manuscript to be published, but the next one, or the one after that. There's no way for me to know, and I'm not meant to. I'm supposed to desire to serve Him above all other things, and He'll guide me in the way He wants me to go.
Father God, I can't thank You enough for easing the pain of another rejection, and for reminding this wayward child of Your absolute sovereignty over my life. Gracious, holy God, please lead and guide me so that I can serve You and bring You glory.