I am always surprised when I read that a writer knows exactly how many rejections he has received. I wonder why one would want to rub salt in the wound that occurs when the rejections arrive. I make note that the journal has rejected my work, and then put the info away in my files. I have two files in the drawer. One has all my acceptances and the other has rejections. Those that come now by email get filed in my documents. I have no idea how many times my work has been rejected.
Once a poem has been turned down a couple of times, I revise it and send it out again to different publications. I have an idea of the number of publications I have because I list them on my blog, but I have never counted them to make me feel good or bad. If I counted all the rejections , I am sure I’d be unpleasantly surprised. Since I have no idea of their number, I never think about it.
Part of my approach to life is making sure I don’t poke sticks in my eyes anymore. Why torture myself when it is unnecessary and does no one any good? Why would I lash myself with a big whip?
Instead of thinking of the negative, I glory in my acceptances when they come and share them with friends that I know care about me. I think it is best to celebrate our greatness every chance we get.