First the story spent about twice the usual time for consideration at the toughest market in the genre, and came back with two full pages of description of the editorial committee's deliberations about whether to accept it. They could have sent a one sentence does-not-meet-our-needs-at-this-time. Instead, they told me exactly what to make better and urged me to send the next other thing I wrote. Yay.
So then I sent the story to the second-toughest market in the genre, where I got another long personalized rejection urging me to send my next story. Yay.
To break the tie in my own deliberations about where to send it next, I picked the highest-paying of the remaining markets in the genre. They usually reject in about three months. Instead, they held onto it for ten months while they tried to decide between it and a specific other story for a spot in a specific issue. Very close, keep trying. Yay.
I get all the best rejections.
At times like this, I remind myself that even Jay Lake, even at the height of his Jay-Lake-itude, said he got three rejections for every acceptance. At times like this, I imagine it might be nice to be a short-form specialist, rather than a long-form specialist who occasionally challenges herself to write short.
So out it goes again. Good luck, little story.
And now back to work on the short story in progress.