Maine Weather and Editorial Rejections

Mainers have been complaining about the hot weather that settled over the East coast for the last ten days. Lucky for them, Mainers have plenty of possibilities to cool off. So they run to the lake, the river or the beach like fish out of the water. They make me smile. After all temperatures have barely reached the mid 80s. I’ve got no problem with temperatures unless they pass 100F.
When I moved from Paris to Palo Alto, California, people were complaining about an extraordinary cold winter. I walked all day long, my coat un-buttoned, enjoying what any Parisian would have found balmy weather.
When five years later I arrived to Massachusetts in the middle of the summer, I thought I would melt under the sweltering sun. Thanks to neighbors, I discovered a local pound and I made it through July and August. Early September, fall tiptoed to New England and I forgot the misery of the summer, knowing that after the worst always comes the best. My first winter in Massachusetts was historic. It snowed feet of snow from Thanksgiving to mid April. We lost the power for a few days because of amazingly beautiful and cruel ice storms. In May, I received a virtual gold medal from my neighbors. If a Parisian turned into a Californian had gone through a record winter I had definitely become a New Englander.
Five years later, I moved back to California. Again, the winter, said the locals, was exceptionally cold. They wrapped their children in fleeces and scarves, mittens and hats. I worried parents would call child protection when my four kids entered the preschool and elementary school in short sleeve shirts. They went to the playground every day while their friends drank hot cocoa.
Two years later my family and I settled in the Central California foothills. Summer fell on us like an electrical blanket and I didn’t believe my new neighbor when she promised me that October would bring tarantulas that are the promise of cooler temperatures. However, she was right.
So today, as Mainers are hoping for a storm that would refresh them, I let my windows open and only switched a small fan on.
Before I know it I will be back to California with temperatures reaching the upper 100s. I already know that summer doesn’t say goodbye to the foothills before late October. When I will finally slip my sweatshirt on, Mainers will already have entered the long months of winter.
Living through diverse climates has made me more resilient and less critical of the weather. I have to admit that the same approach hasn’t met similar results when it comes to editorial rejections. I’ve definitely developed a tougher skin when it comes to the weather. So when I received a rejection a couple of days ago, instead of complaining and ruminating I took a deep breath and started right away a new story. After all, the editor hadn’t found that specific story a good match for the magazine but complimented my wrriting and asked to see more of my work.
As they say in Maine, if you don’t like the weather, wait for a minute, it will get better.

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