For instance, you're mailing manuscripts or submissions in manila envelopes. You turn up those little metal tabs, lick the flap real good, then press down the flap to make sure it sticks. But your finger hits the little metal tabs, which turn out to be sharp as knives. Ouch. But then there's this red shit on your envelope. Uh oh. So you spend the next 30 minutes with a ice cube in a washcloth pressed tightly to your finger. In the meantime, somehow, you try to wipe away the blood, not expecting very good results (but you don't want the editor to think you're putting the juju on him/her), and amazingly, it wipes away, clean as a whistle! You manage to put a band aid on the finger (tightly) with one hand, and the bleeding stops. So now, no matter how many rejection letters you get (or no letters at all), you can still say, "Well at least I have my health!" And if that's not a happy ending I don't know what is.
Author of Things Come On: (an amneoir) (Wesleyan University Press’ poetry series, 2011), earth day suite (Beard of Bees Press, Dec. 2010), Of Some Sky (Bedouin, forthcoming), and Poetry and the Public (Wesleyan 2002).