New Yorker Rejects #11

Maybe I'm reading too much cognitive theory, but I just can't figure out if I'm a cynical optimist or a hopeful pessimist. For example, I just achieved an extraordinary milestone–hosting a workshop on humor in veterinary medicine (that was approved for CE credit and all of that).

But on the other hand–the very next day I believe–I got another rejection email from The New Yorker. My latest batch of cartoons was killed by the same form letter as the previous ten. It's not that I'm doing all these cartoons for the external validation of a big magazine, but it sure would be nice to have some big time legitimacy when I'm preaching my message of humor to the veterinary world.

Which is all to say, I'm trying to pay more attention to my internal stories. What should I focus on–feed? The dream-like and heartwarming small, local event with supportive friends that left me with a palpable buzz for hours afterwards? Or a cold, detached email response from an organization known for rejecting 99% of all submissions (even from those who aren't unknowns).

I don't know. It was just nice to be (temporarily) finished with one big project, and get back to drawing cartoons purely for the fun of it. In either case, it's not like there's somebody out there working against me. I don't believe in weird things like that...

By the way– this cartoon sucks. I would have rejected it (but in a fit of desperation, submitted it anyway). I hate the verbage. But I couldn't come up with anything better, and had sunk quite a bit of time into it. Classic example of polishing a turd into oblivion.

That's part of the creative process though–developing a taste for the turd vs. gem distinction. And sometimes, turds just really seem like gems! I guess I thought I could pull it off–in fact, maybe I had already started writing my acceptance speech...

That reminds me! I'm supposed to be thankful! And, yeah–there are people giving me helpful insights into my cartoons. And there's nothing that I want more than feedback, which only helps make these things that I love better, or at least less bad.

Here's a cartoon that a literary friend helped me retool, and I think it's better than what I originally submitted. Thanks Thomas!

Still not good enough, though. Maybe you actually suck, Thomas.

Here's another one where I essentially stole a friend's idea, submitted it as my own (thinking it was 100% going to sell), and then struggling to figure out if I had somehow messed it up in the process of redrawing it–sorry, Gwen!

It's nobody's fault though, which I have to remind myself each time I log on to social media...

And so I should probably be reminding myself that hurting others is no way to live. Surely, even if we're born into a world where taking advantage of others is the norm, there must be a way to carve out a niche without propagating more suffering.

What a sweet thought.

And–you know, even people known for their pure self-sacrifice might do well to see the lighter side of themselves.

Which reminds me–humans have been drinking alcohol for several thousand years, me specifically only for a few decades. I'm happy that my consumption is trending downward, however last night I went out with friends had a few drinks. All for the sake of dancing my heinie off at an Afrobeat concert in the basement of a local hipster bar.

So today I'm moving a little more slowly, but also reminiscing on some of the later nights of my youth...

If there is any saving grace to heading out and pouring hepatotoxins into our gullets, is that we get to hang out with friends. Alcohol as a social lubricant theory is obviously not an exculpation of any of its (myriad) harms, but if it helps get people together and boogying–well then maybe it's at least a little bit nuanced.

I like that idea–that nuance is what's needed. But I wonder if I'm guilty of overpursuing that mentality from time to time. It certainly could come across as contrarianism, or arrogant dismissal of the social norms. I'm coming to realize that's where a lot of humor lies, but it's not always easy reversing directions in a crowded space.

For what it's worth, I really do feel like most of the time, I'm happy to work in a team and to spend the time collaborating. It's only occasionally that I gleefully seek solitude, and even then my cynicism tends to dissipate like an ebbing tide if I just wait it out.

That's probably a decent thing overall, even if I allow myself to act like an unapproachable jerk... from time to time.