I had an interesting problem with a couple of emails I sent out this week. I had written a post, entitled Olympic Games, then and now, which Mom believed was worthy of publication in a newspaper. I agreed, although a little bit reluctantly, and I started by writing to the local Sunday paper, The Maine Sunday Telegram. When that editor didn’t respond, I dropped my expectations a little, and submitted the piece to The Coastal Journal, a local weekly free paper.
In both cover letters, I introduced myself as a reader of the editor’s publication; then I wrote, “I’m a local writer and poet.” I stopped, and read that sentence again. And Again. And over and over, wondering if I should leave it in, or start erasing. I know I am a writer, and a poet; I was worried that readers might ask what I have written. My problem is, without any third-partner publications, I feel (here we go again!) people won’t take me seriously.
So I puzzled, questioning my own chutzpa and wondering about reactions. Directly, I remembered I don’t allow those kinds of questions hurt me, (with thanks to Don Miguel Ruiz and his book, The Four Agreements.) That made me smile, and so I concluded my letter and sent it off, and, a few days later, I sent the other, with a far easier mind. I have absolutely no idea what the second editor will say, and now, I don’t mind very much at all.