It’s Friday and so it’s time to welcome my guest writer. This week it’s the wonderful Kim Smyth. If you’d like to be a guest on my blog, please get in touch: estherchilton@gmail.com. Poems can be up to 60 lines and prose 2000 words. If you’d like to add a short bio and photo, then great.

Many of you will be familiar with this week’s guest. If you don’t already know Kim, here’s a little bit about her:

I’m Kim and I’m traveling with my hubby Dave and our two Shorkies-Whiskey & Brandy. I love writing about my passions, my family, and now our new lifestyle as newbie full-time RVers. I like photography, so I’m documenting our journey with places, wildlife, and activities along the way. Discovering new places and making friends along the way! Join us on our journey.

Kim has written a fabulous poem. I’m sure you’ll be able to relate to it like me:

Rejection, A Horror Story

I was working at my desk late one night
Across my email came a dreadful sight
“Rejected Again!” the nasty thing said,
Actually, “We regret to inform you” instead
I hung my head in utter shame,
Outside the wind howled in the driving rain.
Lightning struck and thunder shook,
How will I ever write a book?
I thought as I pondered the cause
Number ten rejection I believe this was,
A blow to my ego, simply because
I’ve been trying so hard, has my talent fled?
Have I never had it at all
My conscious said.
This was just an essay, I’ve penned many of those
It shouldn’t have failed, not exactly prose.
If I can’t pass this easy test
No way I’ll ever become the best
At writing a book or a novel so well
All these rejections have put me through Hell.
Again and again, how much can one take?
This last one I got really took the cake.
An emotional story about my mother,
Rejected, just like all of the others.
Outside the storm continued to rage,
As I sat there in my four-walled cage.
The room where the “magic” is supposed to happen
Nothing like that, just another rejection.
I erased the email so fast I forgot
Just which pub this letter was from, it mattered not
I was about to get numb
To this feeling I thought as I put it to bed
And off I went to search my head
There must be an answer or clue I am missing,
Suddenly my husband I was kissing,
He told me it would surely get better
Next time I’d get an acceptance letter
“You really think so,” I asked through my tears
“Of course, you’ve been writing for all of these years!”
He said and I calmed for just the time being.
Inside I was really falling apart
These editors have stuck a knife in my heart,
They are all monsters I thought with a start.
They’re out to get me, that’s the truth of it,
Now I was so mad I could spit.
No way will they make this writer quit.
In the morning I’ll start with a tale to regale,
It will be great, my ship has not sailed.
So I set about writing a most epic story,
Soon I thought maybe I’ll see all the glory.
I worked night and day and I sent the thing off
Surely the editors this time will not scoff.
Instead of fresh hell this one will be heaven,
Yet about one month later, came number eleven.

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