I have successfully blagged my way onto the National Academy of Writing course - yippee! I say blagged, I mean, spent an inordinate amount of time worrying over what was required for entry, jumping through hoops to find my way into the mind of my tutor; thank God, she thought my workshop submission was "polished".
I was initially ecstatic about getting onto the qualifying module, but then as I submitted my portfolio I became blase (rightfully or wrongfully). I had no inclination that I might fail to secure myself a place. Really? Yes, of course it was possible... but, I've learnt so much, pushed myself over the last 4 months to within an inch of my imaginative creativity and ability that there was no way I could conceive I might fail. Of course, succeed, I have.
That said, I'd not contemplated how it would feel to know that others had failed to be accepted. Those 24 people who I got to know just a smidgen of in the 5 days of the course, who I don't know beyond a shared need to push the envelope of our writing... and I feel a sense of loss that not all of them will be coming back. It's bad enough to think that some would choose not to join the course, some choosing to defer, and others to do the other module... but to actually be turned down?
I remember this feeling from school. Lessons, comprised of friends, enemies and other people you never talk to but who make up the whole. Without these people dynamics change, the class is a different place. This may seem melodramatic to some, but it's feelings like this we should embrace and investigate for their meaning. For me, it is separation, detachment, loss. I'm sociable and I need people, preferably likeminded people, with whom I can ingratiate myself.
Some of those people that made up the whole won't be coming back. Rejected, they are in that lonely place of self doubt... at a loss.
This is how success feels for me. And it comes with humble-pie... I brushed with possible failure. If I hadn't have worked as hard as I did (and I could have worked harder), I wouldn't be in. I'd never contemplated that I could have failed - probably best to keep my self-belief, it's helped so far.