The rejections keep coming by mail and even e-mail, which can seem even more impersonal. It isn't really, but it's quicker. It lacks the anticipation of opening an envelope, pulling out the preprinted slip, sometimes with a handwritten note of encouragement, the moment of thinking that this might not be a rejection after all.
However, after writing my previous post about this ongoing if disappointing aspect of the writing life, I started to consider other forms of art and self-expression. I started to think about auditions—especially dance auditions (although the high school musical tryout was a pretty sad affair). I started to remember the cold studios and the combos and the crowds of talented women lining up and not getting chosen for callbacks and all the while standing in a leotard—nowhere to hide.
That thought makes even the most impersonal, anonymous letter sound kind of warm and cuddly.