Yesterday, I got two or three rejection emails for short stories I’m trying to place.  On Facebook, I asked my writer friends if there was any chance those mags were having some April Fool’s Day fun with us.  Truth be told, I don’t take rejections seriously or personally.  The stories have been through the processes they’ve needed to go through before I sent them out.  I love them and believe in them.  I know they’ll find a place in the world.

Then I got to thinking about how I might have felt if I’d gotten acceptance letters yesterday instead.  There’s a certain foreboding, isn’t there, in Palm Sunday adulation?