Whirlwind

So much has happened in the past two weeks that I couldn't possibly relate it all. Unfortunately, when the urge to write struck I was too busy to devote any time to it and when I finally had the time, the urge just wasn't there. Funny how that tends to happen with most people, regardless of the type of creative outlet they pursue. Every artist I've known suffers from some form of creative block, whether it be in the form of procrastination, fear of failure or genuine lack of ideas. Too bad there's no magic pill or potion to lift the creative fog from the frustrated artist's mind.

First things first, I returned Tuesday after nine days of traveling to find a letter from Humboldt State University. True to the insulting nature of form letters, it read: "We regret to inform you..." blah, blah, blah. In short, I was not "recommended" by the graduate committee as a candidate for their program. And, to add insult to injury, truly putting the "dis" in "disappointment," the letter was addressed to me but read "Dear Ms. Some-Other-Person-Who-Wasn't-Accepted." Naturally, I called the department to confirm whether or not the letter was indeed intended for me. It was, the man on the line assured me, only somewhat apologetically. I expressed my feeling that, in the future, they should take precautions to insure that letters of such an upsetting nature are addressed to the person for whom they are intended. The man, somewhat condescendingly, apologized again. I wished bad things on him. But, as I make a habit of never wishing truly evil things on people, the misfortune I wished on him manifested itself innocuously enough: hoping the DVD he rents tonight is scratched and that he accidentally spills a quart of bleach on his favorite jeans, burns his DiGiorno pizza and gets shampoo in his eyes. Repeatedly.

So, let's see now... how can a person add even more insult to another's injury? Well, after sending a rejected graduate school candidate a form letter addressed to someone else, you could always send her an identical form letter, with a post-script apologizing for the error on the original letter. This way you can reiterate the disappointing news in a way that should leave no doubt in the recipient's mind that the rejection was indeed intended for her. What a lovely thought! Imagine how pleased I was when I opened my mailbox to find yet another letter from HSU, engulfing me with a sense of hope. Perhaps they had made a mistake and were writing to tell me they'd be honored and privileged to have my brilliance grace their program? Wrong. That millisecond of hope turned into disbelief and frustration over the fact that the personnel of a respected institution of higher learning could be so unbelievably stupid and insensitive. They will be eating shit when I publish my first novel (a Pulitzer Prize winner, naturally) and include a tidbit in my bookflap bio about how lucky and grateful I am I never got accepted to HSU.

Yes, that's the bitterness talking. Yes, I'm disappointed and frustrated. But I am also extraordinarily determined. And, after a brief period of regrouping that involved the ripping out of much of my hair, I am boldly moving forward with Plan B. Don't let the fact that I don't exactly have a Plan B concern you. Not having a plan is certainly no deterrent to my putting a non-existing plan into action. Trust me.

Posted by ayelet at May 2, 2004 02:37 PM