The Last Bottle

I have been writing quite a lot of short stories recently. The idea is to try to sell them and drum up some interest in my writing. I suppose drumming up some money would be handy too.
The fourth short that I have written and submitted in the last couple of weeks is about a bottle of wine. I had trouble starting it, the story not the bottle of wine, and I'm not sure even now, if I like the way it came together.
The thing is that I wrote it and submitted it to a magazine that I would love to have some success with. I immediately regretted doing that with a story I wasn't sure about. This particular magazine publishes very few stories a year and is very quick to repond to submissions.
Oddly, though, when the rejection came through, I re-read the story and quite liked it, or at least liked it more than I had before. I think I'll just send it to someone else and see how it goes; eventually I might re-write it.
The trick, I am told, is to accept that very many stories will never find homes, let alone paying gigs; most of them will just end up gathering dust, forgotten and unloved. The effort isn't wasted though; I need to remember that 'The Golden Banner' was born in a short story for ABCtales. Inevitably I suppose, all ones writing is, to one extent or another, of a piece, the work of one imagination and therefore tied together.