Years ago when I was preparing to head to college in Washington, D.C., one of my baby-sitting clients who happened to be editor of our hometown paper in Dayton, Ohio, gave me some advice: "Subscribe to The Washington Post."
He had no idea I would later become a writer, and neither did I. Back then all I knew was I wanted to travel the world and the best way to do that, it seemed, was to major in French. (I was 17 years old; what did I know?)
When I got to Washington, I followed Mr. Alexander's advice and was probably the only person in my dorm who had the newspaper delivered to her. I read it, I followed the political happenings in my new hometown, learned about what was playing at the brand-new Kennedy Center, cut out recipes -- and started reading the humor column by some guy named Art Buchwald.
Later when I graduated and started working in D.C. in the news department of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce right across the street from the White House, I continued reading Buchwald's column. I can still recite excerpts from his famous column on the first Thanksgiving, which the Post originally published back in 1953 and would reprint every November. I'd insist my family put up with me reading it year after year, and I probably have a yellowed copy of it in a box somewhere.
Also in a box is the very best rejection letter I ever received, and it has to do with Art Buchwald.
One of the first things I ever wrote was a humor piece about Christmas and how the ponderous bureaucracy of the government dealt with Santa Claus. My friends loved it, so I dutifully sent it off to The Washington Post in case they wanted to publish it. (I've never had a problem with thinking big.)A few weeks later I received a rejection letter in the mail. I was shocked -- and not just because someone rejected my work. This was actually a real live personal letter, not a form letter like most rejection letters, and it was from one of the editors of the Post. He thanked me for my submission and said he would not be able to publish it.
Then he added a line that has remained with me for more than 30 years: "We have a lot of writers who have to be kept busy this time of year, including one by the name of Buchwald."
Wow, to be mentioned in the same sentence as Art Buchwald! I hardly noticed I'd been rejected.
I went on with my writing career and later developed the world's largest collection of rejection letters -- but none as memorable as that one.
Buchwald passed away in 2007 and in his final column he wrote:
I know it's very egocentric to believe that someone is put on Earth for a reason. In my case, I like to think I was. And after this column appears in the paper following my passing, I would like to think it will either wind up on a cereal box top or be repeated every Thanksgiving Day.
I guess I wasn't the only one who read his Pilgrim column every Thanksgiving.
I have to agree with him that we are put on Earth for a reason (although I don't believe it's egocentric). If your reason is to write, or to write about your reason for being here, please keep writing and don't deny the rest of us the pleasure of reading what you write.
And most importantly, keep laughing.
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You can't publish what you haven't written -- so if you need help writing your book, join me at my next writer's workshop and brunch in sunny Orlando, Florida. Details here.
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