1. Corgis. I don't know why. I've seen about five corgis out and about since rolling back into San Francisco on Tuesday. I was kind of flummoxed when I saw the fifth one last night, because I'd been just been thinking about how many corgis I'd seen in the past few days, and as if reading my mind a guy walks down the street with one one of the little guys grinning and trotting along at the end of a leash. It felt a bit over the top. But then more! Today a friend from work posts a picture of her new corgi pup on her Facebook page. The universe is trying to communicate with me in the form of the Pembroke Welsh Corgi?
2. Another rejection letter yesterday. That, though, is not a sign. That is a necessary part of my job. Do I get to pick and choose what might be a message or not? Yes, I think so. I'm in the rejection letter phase of my writing career. One must use discipline and not say things to oneself like, "I can take a hint, universe," or "this must mean I'm not supposed to (whatever.)" It means that I'm one letter closer to being out of the rejection letter phase of my career. It's tempting to let it be a sign that would get me off the hook. It would be kind of nice if the universe just told me to quit with the fiction writing business. Then I wouldn't have to endure all this cumbersome attempting and the ego-quashing not-achieving. I could shrug and say, "It wasn't meant to be."
When I was in grad school I was talking to a councilor and I said, "I'm worried about the career I've chosen, it involves a lot of rejection and perseverance. And I'm a person who finds perseverance really challenging." She laughed and said, "Yeah, but isn't everybody? Isn't that the nature of perseverance?" ZZ Packer told us in workshop one day that she always had a story out, and was always waiting to hear back from some publication or residency. "I like to get mail," she said.
Rejection letters, whatever. Corgis, though? I'm listening, Universe. Tell me more.
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