Before I go into my rant I just want to say that I know rejection. If anyone knows rejection it’s a writer and a cat lover, of which I am both. Though I have sent only two queries yet so far, my first rejection is just a taste of what’s to come. I’ve entered contests and not won, which to me is a letdown akin to rejection. Such as Chip MacGregor’s most recent Worst Poetry Contest. I so had that one nailed that I had my acceptance speech already prepared and a space on my mantle dedicated to the future spot of my winning prize: The lava lamp. I know it’s not a Pulitzer Prize, but hey, just as groovy. Imagine my disappointment to see in today’s post that I was not a winner, nor a finalist. I didn’t even make the top ten—I think there were only eleven entries.
But worse than not winning was I displayed my true colors and had an online fit—such as the one I’m having now. I did not accept defeat gracefully. I demanded a re-read under less sober conditions, and preferably recited in the tune of a rap song. Here it is for those of you not yet exposed to my poetic talent.
(Author’s note: poetry typos were retained for optimum creative expression)
Horace, Benny, Eurkel,
Kent
Reading my novel was time well spent
Mabel, Ethel, Fran, and
Adolf
All are dead now they laughted their head off
Sleazing my book: stores and shows, when I sells one
Nobody knows.
I know, it’s a travesty that I didn’t win, but I did have some pretty stiff competition. There’s so much talent out there it’s scary.
Update: Mr. MacGregor responded to my complaint: The judges have taken your request into account and have suggested a restraining order. Sorry, Tricia, while your work was bad, it didn’t reach the heights of badness needed to be badfully bad.
Well the nerve. I’ve never been so insulted in all my life. I’m going over there right now and rapping my poetry till I get that lava lamp.
Tricia
Okay, do I have this straight: you’ll be satisfied being either a great writer or a horrible one, just as long as you get an award? Hmmm, lava lamp or Pulitzer … yeah, I see the strategy. 🙂
I just want validated for my efforts. I want to win something. Win Win Win. And maybe to catch the attention of an agent in the process, like a restraining order.
Tricia –
First, stop whining.
Second, your poem was truly awful. If it’s any consolation, I think it was among the worst I’ve ever read.
Third, if you’d like to visit the lava lamp, let me know.
Fourth, (I don’t have a fourth, but I hate three-point lists).
Ron, Ron, Ron. You’re THE winner, it’s easy for you to shun my whines you “walleyed” woollybooger you.
Thank you for acknowledging my truly awful poetry, and coming from you that’s a huge compliment. And to say it’s among the worst you ever read, well, ahh, I’m blushing.
Congratulations on Walleye Eludes me:-)
That was really bad!! Really, Really bad!! You should have won. What are they smoking over there at that blog. I think I need to go check it out.
Also, I laughed out loud when you said you know rejection because you’re a cat lover. Yep, still chuckling.
Thank you, Candice for the kind words and for your ability to recognize talent when you see it.
Tricia, a truly awful poem and I’m glad to hear that you didn’t go down without whining. That is the way of horrible poem writers. Way to represent.
I’m still laughing about you knowing rejection because you’re a cat owner too. That’s funny.
Kasie,
Now I must sulk that I didn’t win the purple prose contest. That might be my next blog. It really is a blow to my self-esteem that I can’t even win contests ruled on awfullness.
Tricia,
I do believe that you and rapper Eminem should tour together. Your work is very similar!
Christian,
Me and M&M, we go way back. We are like one.
[…] when Chip MacGregor holds his next Worst Poetry contest. I didn’t win last year (see my entry here) but I’ve sharpened my skills remarkably, don’t you […]