September has been a season of rejections, which feels like it should be illegal. I celebrated both my birthday and my wedding anniversary this month, and how dare everyone rain on my happiness parade. September is for connection and people declaring their love for me. (No, I don’t have an ego. At all. Not me.)

All the rejections have been very professional and kind, to be fair. They are always, “Thank you, but no.” or “No, but it was close, send more” and never “No, and how dare you.” The possibility of that latter response always scares the hell out of me.

But that fear’s entirely on me, you know? I made myself vulnerable and asked to be seen. There’s no guarantee anyone will like it. I know the answer is likely going to be no. The odds are not in my favor, especially when a publication only buys 12 stories a year. But courage and hope and maybe a little hubris have overwhelmed that sense of fear. I’ve made something that didn’t exist before and I’ve sent it out into the world, with a wish that it might connect with another person. It’s like a message in a bottle that’s been tossed into the ocean.

Many times, the ocean tosses it right back out. There’s a good chance I did just toss garbage into it, after all. The ocean doesn’t want that.

Garbage isn’t quite the right word. I know what I write isn’t garbage, even when I’m deep in a spiral of self-doubt. But it can also be true that I may simply not be skilled enough yet for that market. I know I’m better than I used to be at crafting stories. Logically, if I keep writing, I’m going to become more skilled. That’s how practice works.

But even then, it may not be enough. My story may be immaculately crafted and still not pass the vibe check. I write weird shit. I write beautiful shit. I write funny shit. Sometimes, I mix all that shit together, and I know it’s not going to connect with everyone. Or anyone. And I don’t say that because I think my perspective is unique and special. I say that because we all are unique and special. We all are creative. It’s part of being human. But it also means that what we love doesn’t always align.

Every now and then though, my skill and their vibes match, and I think it’s such beautiful, magical thing.

Here’s to a beautiful September. Let’s remember it as the September that I tried. Let’s remember it as a September that I was all in. That I was brave. That I hoped.

And someday, there will be a yes again.