At least part of the reason I'm rushing to write these two books is that I want to have made good progress, or even finish them, before my will to live is crushed by rejection.
No matter how I prepare myself, there will always be the odor of sour-grapes rationalization. Even when my mind truly can come up with a bunch of legit reasons why it could happen.
And it doesn't help to prepare for it. Knowing you're going to get socked in the face doesn't make it hurt any less. In fact, it might hurt more.
Every time I try to tell myself it doesn't matter if I get rejected, saying things like, "Hey, it's no worse a result than never having submitted," I also have to admit to myself, "Hey, if it doesn't matter, why are you doing it?"
Well, obvious reasons. More exposure, connections, credibility, bookstore exposure, and possible (though most likely, very limited) money.
But I really also mean it when I say it might be a little bit of a relief. What really got me rolling on writing again was skipping that whole submission process, which is nerve-wracking and soul-crushing. It seems arbitrary and way too dependent on luck, timing, and who you know.
You mean I can write whatever I want, whenever I want, and I can just publish it? Count me in!
So after an appropriate mourning time, I will move on. I know this. I've just got too much momentum to stop now.