Tag Archives: money

Twenty-four Minutes?

I’m okay with rejections of my writing. I have a thick skin (most times), and I’ve received numerous rejections.

It’s wonderful to receive a timely rejection because you can move on. You can trash your story, revamp it, or resubmit it to another publication.

I’ve never trashed a story (I’m too vain for that.) After a rejection, I’ve mostly resubmitted it elsewhere. Looking back, I should have revamped instead of resubmitted.

A couple of years ago I wrote a short story. I wasn’t happy with it, so I let it sit. I pulled it out the other day and revamped it. Totally revamped it. It’s now a horror story instead of a mish-mash of useless words (okay, it wasn’t quite THAT bad!).

I had found the perfect market for that story and spent the last three days rewriting it. I was SO happy with it when finished. It was the perfect submission for this particular publication.

I sent it off today at 4:12 p.m.

I expected to hear back within a couple of months—or more—but at 4:36 I received a reply.

My heart thumped with thankfulness. My head exploded with excitement. My wallet (imaginary, of course) bulged with bills. I had a sale! The publication liked my work so much they had to immediately reply for fear I might sell it elsewhere.

My stomach sank. My ego evaporated. My wallet weakened.

No sale!

A rejection!


I was stunned beyond belief. Within twenty-four (24!) minutes I’d received a rejection?

This unknown person from this prestigious publication had crushed my ego within thirty minutes. That’s the fastest rejection I’ve ever received for anything!

Who receives a rejection within thirty minutes?

My first thought, of course, was that my story was so horrendously horrible that this individual had to get rid of it immediately. My second thought, which didn’t come to me right away, was perhaps this publication was on the ball.

People today want instant gratification. No one wants to wait.

Sure, it’s great—wonderfully amazing—to receive a timely rejection so one’s work isn’t tied up unnecessarily. That writing is then set free: free to submit elsewhere.

But still. Twenty-four minutes? That’s gotta be a record in anyone’s resume.

Twenty-four minutes? I’m still stunned.



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I Lost It!

I lost my bank card today! Yikes! (Or, at least, discovered today I had lost it!)

I’m not surprised, actually. I jam stuff into my purse and never put cards and bills where they should be. If I’m at the ATM and someone’s behind me, I stuff even faster and haphazardly so I don’t inconvenient anyone. In the end, I have inconvenienced only me.

Who knows where my bank card disappeared to. Today’s the 17th, and, strangely, I do have the last withdrawal slip, dated the 12th. Funny, cause the two—my card and receipt—are usually jammed in my purse together. Figures I would lose the more important of the two!

This might not be a big deal, except we’re in Mexico. There’s the language barrier, the fact we’re far from home without access to our personal banking personnel and other funds, the very real possibility someone has accessed our account and depleted our funds. And, if someone has scoffed our money, another very real possibility Hubby may expect me to replenish the funds from my money. Another yikes! Oops!

Of course, when I discovered the loss, on the street, outside the ATM, the bank was closed for the day. We headed for our planned dinner, all the while Hubby chastising me. Yeah, but I deserved it, so I couldn’t say much. “You should let me handle the money and the card,” he yakked. Yeah, I guess so, I thought, but I felt a bit of power handling finances in Mexico, since at home, things are: his or mine; not ours.

I asked him if he had his bank card with him. “No,” he said. “I never had one.”

“Of course you did,” I said. “You had one at home.”

“Nope, I never had a card,” said he.

“Yes, you did. It was in your wallet, but no doubt you don’t have it here,” (thinking he wouldn’t carry his entire wallet around in Mexico). He kept insisting he didn’t have a card.

When we returned home, he opened his wallet. Voila, there it was! I kept quiet.

We returned to the bank. “I have to,” I said. “I won’t sleep tonight wondering whether our money is intact or not.”

Luckily, the money was intact. And Hubby’s card worked, despite him not remembering his password or even knowing he possessed the card. I saved the day! I remembered his password.

So, tomorrow we head to the bank again. I hope they can just cancel my card and not have to cancel his card and reissue all new cards, for that will only add to my stress. It was hard enough getting the online access set up and learn the process. If I have to go through all that again, I will scream!

Nothing’s easy in Mexico.

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