We’re having a very wet, cool spring. This is unusual for us, we usually get a week or two of spring weather and then we’re smack into the heat and humidity of summer. According to the Washington Post, this is the longest cool streak in spring we’ve had in more than two years. Last April we had at least three weeks where the temps were over 70 degrees. Not so much this April, this year it’s been rainy and cool.

It’s been nice to have a cool spring, to enjoy the afternoon hikes I’m taking with my dog each day. And to be honest, this cool, overcast weather matches my mood lately.

This spring has been hard for me. Not only has the pandemic cancelled my book launch and all my readings, I’ve also dealt with some blows in my professional and writing life. I didn’t receive a promotion I was hoping for. My phone died unexpectedly and I had to buy a new one (seriously, why are phones so expensive?!), my car went in for work twice in three weeks, costing nearly $1k each time. And then, the worst – I received a wonderful, amazing rejection.

I know that sounds strange, to call a rejection both wonderful and amazing, but it really was. The press said my poetry was “visceral, vivid, and alive” and if they had the capacity to publish more collections of poetry next year mine would “almost certainly make the cut.” I was both elated and crushed. This was a press I felt was a good fit for my work. And they agreed, but they couldn’t add my book to their roster.

After reading this email I laced up my shoes and went for a run, I needed to clear my head. I needed to shake off the rejection and prep myself for researching presses and finding others to submit this manuscript too. As I started my run I saw a painted rock on the sidewalk:

don’t give up

I’m not a person who believes in signs. And yet… And yet I felt like maybe this was a sign and it was meant for me. I kept running and let thoughts stream through my mind, I left them flood me and then I let them go. By the time I finished five miles I felt better, still sad and disappointed, but hopeful. Because I know the right press is out there and I know I’ll find it.