#2 (Thoughts from a Reading...)

I attended a lovely fiction reading tonight. I went with no knowledge of the author or her works, and honestly wasn't even sure I would remember her name once I got there. I dragged a friend along, telling him how great the reading was sure to be, even though I really hadn't a clue. Maybe I brought him along because I wanted company while walking in the dark, but I think I had a feeling that what I told him would be true. After a personal introduction by a past professor of mine, she read a lovely story. I enjoyed the rich details throughout, and kept trying to commit them to memory to savor them later, but I failed at that valiant endeavor. Everyone clapped when it was over, maybe I clapped a little longer than most. Then, the questions began. Not being interested in writing fiction, and also loving my position as observer at the time, I remained silent. Then, she began speaking on the very reason why I had come to hear her that night. She spoke on endurance. My poetry was rejected twice in the previous week, and I was wondering if all of my efforts had been fruitless. I was wondering if I was any good at what I wanted to do. It was a very good thing that I went to the reading, not because she had a magical remedy for the sting of rejection, but because I learned a very important lesson. She reminded me that passion supercedes all else. This may seem like an extremely encompassing statement solely designed to give comfort to those who lack talent, but I disagree. Instead, passion inspires training, and training creates amazing results. I'm still learning to crawl in terms of my poetry training. Maybe I'm even still learning just to pull myself up and sway for a moment. However, as the writer reminded me, if you have passion for something, you'll keep working at it, and won't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. Rejection happens because there are too many applicants, but hopefully as I learn to walk my rejection will be less. All I know is that my passion for poetry is still strong, and that is why I will always continue to write.