Best. Rejection. Ever.

Just this morning I was discussing a "good rejection letter," with a novelist friend of mine. She had received one. This afternoon, after a particularly harrowing day at work, I received one as well.

I had entered a writing contest sponsored by The Denver Post. Every year they choose 16 people to be a "Colorado Voice." Those people get the prestige of being in the paper, plus a "modest honorarium." Hmm.

In any case, I participated in this contest, as I did last year. My rejection letter last year pretty much looked like this:

You lose. Get off my property.

Oh, okay. It wasn't quite that bad last year. It was more like:

Thank you for playing. You lost.

Yeah, more like that. Short and to the point. This year, however, the letter was far more detailed. Included were these points:

• Nearly 400 writers participated
• My articles made the first cut, as the "final 80 contenders."
  

That was in the upper part of the form letter. Yay! Way cool! I made the first cut! Sometimes Tiger Woods doesn't even make the cut. (I have no idea if this is true.)

It gets better! My letter contains a personal P.S.! The details therein:

• The judges, "...loved your writing." Your meaning my.
  
• "Your talent is extraordinary!" Wheeeeee, dogies! Someone noticed what my mom always thought!
  
• I was among the 30 final writers. I.e., I made the second cut. Yowsa!
• I was encouraged to try again next year (of course).
• I was encouraged to email her my ideas for guest commentary, and she would consider them! Whee!

That means, I don't have to wait until next year--I can email this woman and tell her my ideas for guest commentary, and she'll consider putting me in the paper, anyway! Shibba-dow!

I never knew that a rejection letter could be the perfect end to a perfectly crappy day, but this one sure worked for me. And can I use another bizarre exclamation?

I think I can!


Sweet Fancy Moses!