Since Michelle and Giles have covered both rejection of success this week, I figured I'd take a look at what happens in the middle--the agony of actually having to sit down and do the work that will eventually either get rejected or accepted, either fail or succeed.
Don't get me wrong--I love doing what I do, and I love creating, whether it's writing or something else. But sometimes I feel like I'm the embodiment of the quote "I don't enjoy writing; I enjoy having written."
The act of creation is difficult. You're pulling something from midair, from the collective unconscious, from your own brain, or whatever, and you're making it into a solid, tangible piece. There's nothing easy about going from a vague idea to a full story, or sculpture, or painting. Every step of the process is difficult.
But that doesn't mean it's not rewarding. Like I've said before, the human brain is wired for art--we're meant to tell stories, to see patterns and images. It's part of being alive.
So, yes, rejection sucks. Yes, sometimes we feel guilty for our own successes (even when we shouldn't). But those pains tend to be relatively minor and fleeting. The agony that lingers is the one we have to work through on a daily basis in order to get anything made.
Then again, sometimes that pain can be agonizingly sweet, too. It all depends on how you look at it.
Emily is currently stuck in the absolute terror of trying to finish something but getting distracted by the shiny new idea. She's trying to get better about it, but it's still painful.