I knew she would come.  Even though I didn’t cry or brood when I was gently rejected by the editor I’d been trying to entice into a book contract for almost a year.  My husband said, “Well, you knew that one was coming anyway.”  I did know, and yet, of course, I didn’t want to know so I kept hoping.  (I just read that John Maxwell writes that hope is not a strategy.  It had been mine as I recrafted, and recrafted the proposal, responding to the editor’s suggestions).

During this past year, an editor at another publisher had written and asked me (or one of my colleagues, as she emailed me but addressed my colleague) to peer review a book proposal.  I asked her if she wanted me or my colleague to do the review and was assured that she meant to ask me.  I submitted the review and asked for feedback, two months ago.  No response.  No honorarium as promised.

In the middle of the night my demon came.  She hovered over my head whispering, “You can’t write anything that anyone wants to read.  You can’t even write a review or a proposal for something that anyone might want to read.  You’re not really a writer.  Your books were just a fluke of circumstance.”  The demon wakes me up.  I’m caught in her web of critical and demeaning pronouncements.  And I believe her.

I get up as I know this is the only solution for me.  If I engage with my waking life–read my students’ work, get dressed and brush my teeth–the demon goes away, or at least I cannot hear her so clearly.  I feel the residue of her visit, however.  My energy is sapped.  My self esteem is barely over the -0- mark on the dial.

I have tools for fighting this demon.  I know to replace her negative message with a positive one.  I have published three books with established publishers.  I have written and published many articles.  I have collaborated effectively with editors and other authors.  Still, the demon hovers.

So I sit with the pain of rejection and ask what it has to teach me.  I have been wandering with this book, seeing water and finding it is mirage.  I know from the experience of having been here before that I will emerge into the next project, the next piece of writing, the next collaboration.  This morning the demon keeps me company.  I can see her just outside my door, watchful, keeping me in her sights.