Raymond Carver rejected me today.
It wasn’t personal, of course; Raymond Carver passed away in 1988. It was actually a publication named in honor of Raymond Carver that passed me up.
Months ago, I began work on a short story entitled Windswept. It’s the first real writing that I have ever committed my heart to and, since I completed draft seven on the day before the deadline for submissions, I decided to go for it.
Now, months later, I am reading a personable rejection letter courtesy of the folks at Carve Magazine. Woe is me.