Want to know what you think about your own writing? Hit send. The book you loved an hour earlier becomes the biggest piece of shite in the universe–it’s about to take out Hubble.
I remember a few years ago when I really loved a book, I kissed envelopes and put stamps on upside down and did secret pagan naked dances around a fire under a full moon to MAKE IT HAPPEN. That book’s contract expired recently at a small press.
Now, older, wiser, and understanding just where I’m swimming in this pool of the unwashed masses, I plop my package in the mailbox without so much as a backward glance. Did I throw it in the trash instead? Eh, who cares. Did I proofread that email that accompanied the full? Why bother. Because I sucketh. If I keep saying that, then it won’t hurt when I get the rejection.
No? Wait a second. I must have put my copy of the Secret somewhere around here. Here’s the truth–the most pain comes when you aren’t in touch with reality. That’s one psychological theory, anyway. You probably aren’t the worst writer who ever lived, and if you’re reading this, you sure as hell aren’t the best.
So how do you, dear reader, armor yourself for rejection, or do you? Building a thick skin, we’re all told, is one of the foundations of craft (I still hate that word: craft). Tell me your method, and if it actually works for you.