Issue 1

The Slush Pile Pages

Jordan Davidson

THE SLUSH PILE PAGES

Loves Keen Sting
Rejection hurts. We all know this, some of us
more acutely than others I still remember the
sinking feeling I experienced when Brian H. refused
to kiss me in the third grade, for example. (Looking
back, I should have taken that as a deadly
premonition of how my romantic life was fated to go
from then on out, but I digress.) It is a truth
universally acknowledged that rejection sucks, but
when it happens to something youve become truly
devoted to, the hurt can be magnified by roughly a
billion times (thats a scientific estimate by the way).
Ive become well-acquainted with this form of
rejection. In the past couple of years my dreams of
publication, of changing the world through the sheer
unadulterated power of my words, have given way to
self-doubt, lowered expectations, and burnout. Ive
found myself staring out of windows in existentiallyfraught stupors, wondering why I do what I do and
what The Point of It All may be. Some of this can be
attributed to the natural and not-at-all-fun process of
growing up, but a lot of it can be blamed on the fact
that, for the first time in my life, my writing has been
rejected. For the first time in my life, my writing has
been deemed not good enough.
Ive been rejected from every literary magazine
Ive submitted to thus far, the most recent
occurrence having happened only a month ago. As a
consequence, my self-esteem took a tumble, as I had
been disillusioned from the view I previously held of
myself as The Best Writer to Ever Live, a writer of
The Greatest Things Anyone Has Ever Read.

I had to realize that maybe, just maybe, my

parents and elementary school teachers were
wrong. Maybe Im not the fantastic prodigy Id
been led to believe that I was. Suffice to say that
The Brian H. Disappointment of Third Grade
was nothing compared to this.
I would like to be
able to say that I
was pulled out
The pain I felt upon being
of this funk in
rejected was my price to pay
some huge
for the joy of having created
glorious scene of
the story.
redemption
(probably with
dramatic, stringheavy music
swelling the background). Sadly, since my life is
not accompanied by a James Horner
soundtrack, that didnt happen. What did
happen is that I realized that the pain I felt
upon being rejected was my price to pay for the
joy of having created the story.
We experience pain in an inverse parallel
to previous experiences of joy. As Professor
Dumbledore so wisely remarks in the sixth
Harry Potter movie, ohto feel loves keen
sting. He is correct; a sting born of
disappointed love, be it in romance or anything
else, can be keen indeed. But wouldnt you
rather feel the pain of disappointment than to
never have felt the preceding rush of love?

Issue 1

The Slush Pile Pages

Jordan Davidson

Censorship in Literature:
F*** It!
When I was a child, my parents subscribed wholeheartedly to the opinion that I could read whatever I wanted,
regardless of reading level, age appropriateness, or content. As long as shes reading, thats all we care about!
they would say to anyone who expressed concern about this particular childrearing practice. This led to some
interesting anecdotes that either amuse or horrify those I tell them to, depending on the audience. I remember
being eight years old, sitting cross-legged on my mothers bedroom floor, paging through her vast collection of
Harlequin romance novels with my eyes growing wider at every page turn. When I was ten years old, I read
Alice Sebolds The Lovely Bones and had nightmares about sink holes and bloody safes and detached elbows for
a week. Even at the tender age of four, I came across the word sex in a Shakespeare play one day, and asked
my mother what that was as she strapped me into my car seat. The resultant lesson I received almost made my
eyes melt out of my head. (For the record, I had been asking about gender, but
my mom did not interpret it that way.)

Reality itself is
uncensored, and to
behave as though it
isnt does children an
enormous disservice.

My parents lax policies in monitoring my reading material may be shocking

to some. Didnt it fill your head with unsavory images?, they ask. Didnt it
negatively alter your view of the world? To this, I answer: maybe. Maybe it did.
I wont deny that. But one thing that it did not do is make me ignorant.
Ignorance is a disease perpetuated by censorship, not by permissiveness.

Censorship, the act of deliberately removing content deemed disagreeable

from literature, is a practice long esteemed by dictatorships of every kind. In a very meta (as kids these days
call it) twist, censorship also figures prominently in literature all across the board. Dystopian fiction, such as
Fahrenheit 451 and 1984, is particularly transfixed with censorship and its implications. In a delicious twist of
irony, many of these books have been censored themselves.
Many proponents of censorship argue on the basis that certain content is offensive and inappropriate for
children. They believe in inoculating their children against the worlds problems by shielding them, by making
them believe said problems simply do not exist. (I personally had a friend in high school whose mother would
review any and all assigned literature so she could cross out all bad words with a Sharpie. I dont think her
mother stopped until we got to college and she was forced to relinquish some control.) However, restricting
your childrens access to information about issues does not mean the issues themselves go away. Reality itself is
uncensored, and to behave as though it isnt does children an enormous disservice.

Issue 1

The Slush Pile Pages

Jordan Davidson

Call me a cynic many people do but do we want to protect our children by lulling them into a false
sense of security? Do we want to raise a generation that believes we exist in a void wherein violence,
profanity, and other things deemed evil dont permeate? Do we want them to have a near-catatonic
breakdown when they finally leave the safe haven of their parents home and realize that the good and
pure paradise they believed in wasnt real; that evil exists in the world, and their parents were just good
at hiding it?
I certainly dont. And furthermore, I dont really understand how anyone could.

What do all of these novels have in common? Theyve all been censored by people
who clearly have no grasp of irony.

Prophesize With Your Pen:

How To Make Your
Writing Make a Difference

If youve been on the Internet at all in the last

two or so years, chances are youve heard of
John Greens novel The Fault in Our Stars.
What you may not have heard is my personal
favorite quote in the book (which is saying a
lot, since the entire novel is insanely quotable).
When speaking of her favorite book

Issue 1

The Slush Pile Pages

Jordan Davidson

An Imperial Affliction, the novels protagonist Hazel talks about [books that] fill you with this weird
evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together
unless and until all living humans read this book. From the very first time I read those words, they
stuck with me. How can I write a book like that? I wondered. Even at my best, the most my writing can
inspire people to do is either a) cry because its so gorgeously emotional (as if), or b) toss it out the
window for being so maudlin and sentimental.
All I want to do - all most writers want to do - is to write a magnum opus, the kind of book that gets
described as utterly breathtaking, inspiring, and a revelation on its cover. But how can that be
done? Not only is that a difficult thing to accomplish in and of itself, but inspiration is subjective.
What one reader views as a rallying cry for change, another views as heavy-handed and agendaridden. How can you reach everyone at once, when some people refuse to be reached?
The short answer is: dont try. I dont mean for that to sound
depressing; as a matter of fact, when you relieve yourself of the
expectation to achieve widespread acceptance, it can be incredibly
liberating. Forget about focusing on what others will want to read,
and focus instead of writing what you want to write. Dont worry
about making your message, whatever that message may be, easily
digestible for the masses. The truth is that there will always be
people who disagree with you - arguments rage about everything
from abortion legalization to soda taxation to what subgenre of
music a song belongs under. Anything you have to say will be met
with applause by some people, and scorn and derision by others.
If this sounds frightening, Im sorry. Just remember that nothing
huge was ever accomplished by people who chose to stay home, or
keep their notebooks closed, or keep their thoughts and ideas
locked inside the prison of their own minds.
Know that your voice is worth hearing and your ideas are worth
spreading (unless, of course, youre a white supremacist or a Nazi
sympathizer, but Im going to go out on a limb here and assume
youre not). Be prepared for the terrifying world of negative
GoodReads reviews, people fighting to get your book silenced, and
being the focus of angry newsletters (like this one for example).
Believe in your message enough that the blaze of your passion
outshines the negativity itll inevitably be met with.
Dissenters will only take your opinions away if you let them. So
dont let them.

Books That Made

a Difference to Me
The Bell Jar by
Sylvia Plath

Every Day by
David Levithan

Crossing to Safety by
Wallace Stegner

These are books that changed my

life. What are some that changed
yours?

Issue 1

The Slush Pile Pages

Jordan Davidson