Thank the folks who’ve rejected you–a radical suggestion for writers this Thanksgiving

Last year’s Thanksgiving post deserves a second helping. And if you need more reasons to thank G-d for your rejection letters, check out a story by Nina Badzin here.

Rebecca Klempner

Thanksgiving is upon us here in the U.S., and this is a wonderful opportunity to reflect upon gratitude, whether you celebrate the holiday or not. I’m a big fan of Rabbi Zelig Pliskin and also of Rabbi Shalom Arush, and I’m going to combine their approaches for this writing exercise appropriate to the Thanksgiving season and year-round. This exercise is useful whether you’re Jewish or not–please don’t get turned off to it just because it was inspired by a couple of rabbis.

Rejection is just about the hardest thing to cope with when you decide you’re going to become a writer, but it’s something that you need to learn to accept graciously. When that rejection letter first comes, you are often overwhelmed by feelings of resentment, anger, and frustration. You might lash out, calling the editors idiots or saying that the publisher doesn’t know what good writing is. You…

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Considering my last year of literary pursuit

Since there are just two weeks left of the Jewish year of 5773, I’ve been looking back at the last year and evaluating my life on every level: spiritual, physical, and even professional. And one goal still stands out at unfulfilled:

I STILL HAVEN’T PUBLISHED BOOK #2.

This issue depressed me a couple weeks ago, as I sat in front of my journal on Rosh Chodesh Elul (exactly one month before Rosh Hashanah), scribbling about the past year. I’d submitted a few picture books and two novels to multiple publishers and had zilch to show for it.

But then I counted how many times I appeared in print in the last year for pay: over two dozen times (bli ayin hara).

And then, I counted how many words I’d written. Essentially, it was the length of a novel. Wow.

I realized at that point how many more readers — potentially thousands more people — read my work in magazines this year than in my entire previous professional life.

That’s when I felt blessed.

Okay, I still have a major unfulfilled goal. It will be top of my professional goals again for this 5774. But if success is measured in progress, I made a lot of progress last year. And I could only do it with G-d’s help, which makes the year feel very sweet indeed.

How are you feeling about your last year, professionally? What is your top goal for 5774?

Kveller writers talk G-d with their kids

The Jewish parenting website Kveller is running a series right now on parenting. They’ve got 5 perspectives so far, and I have to admit I have mixed feelings.

They seem to have picked some extreme situations–a mom who clearly has OCD, a kid who has chosen Communism over Judaism–but also some pretty normal ones, like the soon-to-be dad finally realizes the fate of his unborn child is out of his hands and chats with G-d about protecting him and (this had me laughing both out of amusement and empathy) the mother whose kids imitate G-d saying, “No!” to each and every request she makes at a trying stage of life.

What surprised me most is that so far most of the parents seem to not have thought about what they would say about G-d before talking about Him with the kids. Some of the stories are frankly depressing, like watching the blind leading the blind. Not surprisingly, their fumbling responses get some pretty sad results.

But I just love that a non-Orthodox (at least, not only Orthodox) Jewish website is hitting this issue, which largely goes undiscussed in polite American circles. And we’re getting a real glimpse into American Jewish households to see what’s going on in there.

It’s pretty harrowing.

Sure G-d says, “No,” an awful lot. But what about all the times it turned out good for you?

What about saying, “Thanks, G-d!” every time you experiences a moment of joy? “Thanks for the parking space!” and “Thanks for there being exactly enough cupcakes for us all!” make an impression on kids as much as all those heaven-sent No’s.

What about discussing with your co-parent about how you’ll represent G-d to your kids ahead of the “Big Talk?” Because it’s as much of a Talk as the more famous one, and requires at least as much forethought.

Something that surprised me also was that no one really mentioned sharing books about G-d with their kids. A lot of the what I’ve communicated with my own kids about G-d has come from books and magazines, like  Where are You Hashem?, The Invisible Book, and Hashem is Truly Everywhere.

Do any readers out there have literature they like to share with their kids to enhance their “G-d Talk?”

Background on my new story: “Just Perfect” (or why I believe we all live in a Magical Reality)

This week, Hamodia‘s Inyan Magazine published my new short story (and it’s actually for adults!), entitled “Just Perfect.”

The original version of the story was explicitly a piece of fantasy, but as I mentioned in a previous post, I transformed the story into an example of magical realism rather than fantasy in order to address the concerns of my lovely and knowledgeable editor at Hamodia. 

In the original version, then called “Easy as Pie,” the transformation of Libby’s life occurred after she bumped into a little old lady who offered her a slice of peach pie at a party. The pie made Libby’s life–well, just peachy. But my editor felt the little old lady was a little unbelievable. Could I cut her? The only problem was that her brief appearance at the beginning and the end of the story explained the wacky events in between.

I wracked my brains for a way to ditch the old lady but save the rest of the silliness. There had to be an explanation for it, after all. I did a bit of experimentation and research. Finally, I decided that maybe Libby should just pray–and then G-d answers.

Even after I found my “magically real” solution, I initially balked at making the change. It was an elegant solution, so my reaction puzzled me. I had to think about it a lot, and I think my conclusion is worth sharing. Continue reading

3 Ways to use your words charitably–How to help people in need from far away

Yesterday, it took me hours to get myself writing. Instead of typing at my keyboard, I was numb with fear for the residents of Israel (and, in fact, for the children of Gaza, whose safety is in jeopardy–regardless of who is jeopardizing it, which is a political question I refuse to address here). It’s only a couple weeks since Superstorm Sandy hit the eastern seaboard of the U.S. People lost homes, places of worship, jobs, every material good they possessed. And here I sit in California, comfortable and in no immediate threat of danger. There are no sirens warning of incoming rockets blasting in my neighborhood, and the rain outside is just a sprinkle.

On this blog, I write about words, and how to employ them. Today, I’m going take a break from discussing professional writing to give 3 ways you can use your words to help people in Israel and the victims of Hurricane Sandy.

1) You can blog to raise money for a (legitimate) charitably organization who will be helping the victims of Sandy (such as the Jewish charity Achiezer and the secular  American Red Cross).

2) You can write a letter or email (or post on a Facebook page) to a friend in Israel or in New York (or other Sandy-affected area). If you don’t know what to say, just say, “I want you to know I’m thinking about you. I’m far away, but you are not forgotten.”

3) You can write something to bring goodness in the world–a letter apologizing to someone you hurt, intentionally or not; a letter to someone lonely; something kind and beautiful. Then mail it.

 

Using your art to touch the Divine

I subscribe to a service called PhotoBotos, which delivers gorgeous and thought-provoking photos from around the world to your inbox daily. Today’s photo exemplifies something that I’ve spoken about on my blog before–use of one’s talents to bring goodness and G-dliness into the world.

The photo is entitled “Beautiful Flower”–you can see it here–and the photographer’s goal was to capture the singularity of G-d and His tenderness for His creation. Take a minute view it and enjoy as you admire the wonder of G-d’s creation.