I waited this long to post any #PitchWars reaction posts, because I wanted to wait until I had soaked in every emotion possible from this contest. I went through the prep, the submission, the waiting, the mingling, the bonding, the group-forming, and in conclusion was one of those whose names did NOT end up on the final mentees list. Here is how my #PitchWars progression went:
First I was all like:
Then it was:
And the lovely and talented @brendadrake gave us surprises!!
And mentors teased us:
THEN the mentee list arrived!
And you know what? Some amazing writers were on that list! Some amazing writers weren’t. Through this contest, CPs were introduced, writing groups formed, advice shared, and skills learned. In no other contest have I seen writers from so many different levels come together and benefit from one another’s insight.
This next bit is to those of you who DID NOT become a mentee. I saw so many tweets and blog posts trying to encourage people not to “give up” on their writing or to resist being “down on themselves” should they not be selected. You were one in almost 1600 people! This is one in so many contests out there.
Would you like to know what I did during the waiting period to hear the mentee winners? I wrote! I got out my notebook, pulled out the next idea, and got a new novel in the works that was formed from a spark fueled by this contest! That’s what we do as writers. We create , and we don’t let anything stop us from creating.
My parting thought to you is this: yes, the uplifting message people have been spreading is endearing. We want everyone to succeed. But writing is in your soul. You wouldn’t be in #PitchWars showing so many what is so precious to you if that weren’t the case. So, if this rejection (and I don’t care how many have come before; I’m only 24, and trust me I’ve had hundreds already) can drive you to “seriously” contemplate tearing that manuscript up, I feel truly sad. This is a compulsion that isn’t quit so easily. Sure, I was a little sad I wasn’t chosen as a mentee. I grabbed a glass of wine and a pencil, and the second my first word was on the page I felt a sense of relief.
It is never the end. It isn’t for me, and I sincerely hope it isn’t for you.