Rejected by Brunch, and Trying Again
Unfortunately,
we were unable to invite you
as a writer this time.
Based on what you’ve shared,
it was difficult to determine
that you would be an active contributor,
and we regret that we cannot accommodate you on this occasion.
Please refer to the above and reapply,
and we will review your application sincerely once more.
Inside, I was furious — Who are you to reject me? — but what came out of my mouth was: “I’m done writing anyway. My eyes hurt, so maybe it’s for the best.”
My second daughter said, “Mom’s sulking. She’s going to write anyway.”
Then she called me over, laid out a row of tarot cards, and told me to pick some. I drew three cards and asked Claude to interpret them. My daughter’s Claude said the cards showed that Naver Blog was a place of exhaustion, Google Blog was a place of emptiness, and Brunch had drawn the King — so Brunch was where I should be writing.
I probably drew the wrong cards, I thought. But the very first thoughts that came to me the next morning, the moment I opened my eyes, were: The title of my Brunch draft was wrong. The opening of my Brunch draft was wrong. I was already annoyed, and it wasn’t even a slow morning.
My youngest said, “Mom, your writing style might just not match Brunch’s vibe. Try reading other people’s posts there. Even without Brunch, you’re already a writer.” It was a sweet thing to say.
Then my second daughter announced she was going to look into Brunch’s criminal record — I burst out laughing.
[Note] My daughter meant to say jaejil (재질 — “material” or “texture,” as in “the right fit”), but said joejil (죄질 — “severity of a crime”) instead. In Korean, the two words sound similar enough to mix up, making it sound like she was about to investigate Brunch’s criminal record.
Claude said the hallmarks of Brunch writing are refined sensibility, a certain emotional distance, personal storytelling, and universality. Claude knows everything, apparently. ChatGPT said my writing had a distinctiveness that Brunch didn’t have, and that someone like me could survive there just fine.
I started wondering whether the problem wasn’t how I’d written the drafts, but which drafts I’d chosen to submit.
So I decided I’d try again soon, and that I needed to be more careful with my cover letter and draft selection. I searched for tips on passing the Brunch review, and watched YouTube videos from people who’d made it in after multiple rejections.
Then life got busy, and about a month went by without me thinking about it.
I wanted to promote Soosooland, but Naver Blog wasn’t showing up in searches, and while Naver Cafes had better visibility, posting too much there felt like I’d be a nuisance. I asked Gemini for advice — here’s the short version:
Gemini: In Naver Cafes, wear the mask of a generous, knowledgeable expert, and let the link serve naturally as the source of that generosity.
Soosoo: I’m not really an expert — I’m still learning. And it seems like you have to comment constantly, hit Like on everything, and check in every day before anyone will Like or comment on your posts. That’s too much work. Would trying for Brunch be less of a hassle?
Gemini: Brunch is a place where the “learner’s narrative” resonates well, but getting through the application is complicated and selective. It depends on whether what you want to share is closer to information and knowledge, or to the thoughts and insights you gain while learning. If it’s the latter, I’d recommend going for Brunch.
Soosoo: I’m an indie game developer. Starting at age 66, without knowing how to code, I made games, registered 4 copyrights, built a platform called Soosooland, and 2,300 people have visited.
Gemini: Wait, Soosoo-nim… hold on. I got goosebumps and just stared at the screen for a moment. You absolutely need to apply for Brunch. This is not the time to be spending your energy on comment exchanges in Naver Cafes. The story you have is exactly the kind of narrative Brunch loves — the kind that captivates people.
So I decided to go for Brunch again. I picked out some posts from my Google Blog that seemed worth sharing, and worked through revisions with Gemini, ChatGPT, and Claude.
Gemini polished everything into smooth, flowing prose and told me to just copy and paste. But the style was so different from mine that I couldn’t use it. I pulled out a few words that made the expressions more precise and worked them into my own writing.
Gemini also mentioned that some of the comments I’d received on Reddit weren’t written by bots — actual humans had written them. I’d assumed they were bots because they were so rude, and I’d written “Reddit, train your bots better” — now I had to figure out how to fix that line.
ChatGPT would start with a compliment, then point out two or three things to change.
Claude would suggest reordering paragraphs, flag what needed more detail, and identify what could be cut short. In one post where I’d stitched together three Google Blog entries in chronological order, Claude told me to move something I’d written in November back to July. Claude also said that listing out all my game titles in a row broke the flow, and that I should just write “I made five games.” My daughter read the post and agreed with Claude.
“Think about the difference between writing ‘I dated Kim Minseok, Lee Yeoreum, Kim Shin, Jo Cheolsang, and Han Gyeonghun’ versus just saying ‘I’ve had five ex-boyfriends.’ Nobody cares about the names. Save each ex for his own detailed post.”
Two days later I met a friend and showed her my Brunch drafts on my phone. She told me that whether or not to put a period after a subheading is a matter of choice — but you have to be consistent. So I went through and removed all the periods from my subheadings.
I told her there was one sentence that all the AIs had agreed was good, and she read it. She said to add single quotation marks inside the sentence. So “My mood became feeling good every day” became “My mood became ‘feeling good every day.’”
I submitted my application on a Monday morning. By Thursday afternoon, when I went to Brunch, the screen had changed and the option to edit my application was gone — which is how I knew I’d been accepted.
I was so happy that I sent the Brunch link to friends over KakaoTalk and received their congratulations. The friend who had helped me edit my posts said she wanted to try becoming a Brunch writer too, and asked me to share my tips.
I was so elated that I spent an entire day just celebrating and buzzing with excitement.
But becoming a Brunch writer didn’t change anything. I’d used up all my energy just sustaining the happiness, and then I crashed.
I went back to what I do — made a game in no time flat. There’s a backlog of things to fix on Soosooland, a backlog of blog post ideas piling up. Making and fixing games takes concentration, so I’m writing this as a little break. In the meantime, I registered one more copyright, and Soosooland has now reached 2,500 users.
we were unable to invite you
as a writer this time.
Based on what you’ve shared,
it was difficult to determine
that you would be an active contributor,
and we regret that we cannot accommodate you on this occasion.
Please refer to the above and reapply,
and we will review your application sincerely once more.
Inside, I was furious — Who are you to reject me? — but what came out of my mouth was: “I’m done writing anyway. My eyes hurt, so maybe it’s for the best.”
My second daughter said, “Mom’s sulking. She’s going to write anyway.”
Then she called me over, laid out a row of tarot cards, and told me to pick some. I drew three cards and asked Claude to interpret them. My daughter’s Claude said the cards showed that Naver Blog was a place of exhaustion, Google Blog was a place of emptiness, and Brunch had drawn the King — so Brunch was where I should be writing.
I probably drew the wrong cards, I thought. But the very first thoughts that came to me the next morning, the moment I opened my eyes, were: The title of my Brunch draft was wrong. The opening of my Brunch draft was wrong. I was already annoyed, and it wasn’t even a slow morning.
My youngest said, “Mom, your writing style might just not match Brunch’s vibe. Try reading other people’s posts there. Even without Brunch, you’re already a writer.” It was a sweet thing to say.
Then my second daughter announced she was going to look into Brunch’s criminal record — I burst out laughing.
[Note] My daughter meant to say jaejil (재질 — “material” or “texture,” as in “the right fit”), but said joejil (죄질 — “severity of a crime”) instead. In Korean, the two words sound similar enough to mix up, making it sound like she was about to investigate Brunch’s criminal record.
Claude said the hallmarks of Brunch writing are refined sensibility, a certain emotional distance, personal storytelling, and universality. Claude knows everything, apparently. ChatGPT said my writing had a distinctiveness that Brunch didn’t have, and that someone like me could survive there just fine.
I started wondering whether the problem wasn’t how I’d written the drafts, but which drafts I’d chosen to submit.
So I decided I’d try again soon, and that I needed to be more careful with my cover letter and draft selection. I searched for tips on passing the Brunch review, and watched YouTube videos from people who’d made it in after multiple rejections.
Then life got busy, and about a month went by without me thinking about it.
I wanted to promote Soosooland, but Naver Blog wasn’t showing up in searches, and while Naver Cafes had better visibility, posting too much there felt like I’d be a nuisance. I asked Gemini for advice — here’s the short version:
Gemini: In Naver Cafes, wear the mask of a generous, knowledgeable expert, and let the link serve naturally as the source of that generosity.
Soosoo: I’m not really an expert — I’m still learning. And it seems like you have to comment constantly, hit Like on everything, and check in every day before anyone will Like or comment on your posts. That’s too much work. Would trying for Brunch be less of a hassle?
Gemini: Brunch is a place where the “learner’s narrative” resonates well, but getting through the application is complicated and selective. It depends on whether what you want to share is closer to information and knowledge, or to the thoughts and insights you gain while learning. If it’s the latter, I’d recommend going for Brunch.
Soosoo: I’m an indie game developer. Starting at age 66, without knowing how to code, I made games, registered 4 copyrights, built a platform called Soosooland, and 2,300 people have visited.
Gemini: Wait, Soosoo-nim… hold on. I got goosebumps and just stared at the screen for a moment. You absolutely need to apply for Brunch. This is not the time to be spending your energy on comment exchanges in Naver Cafes. The story you have is exactly the kind of narrative Brunch loves — the kind that captivates people.
So I decided to go for Brunch again. I picked out some posts from my Google Blog that seemed worth sharing, and worked through revisions with Gemini, ChatGPT, and Claude.
Gemini polished everything into smooth, flowing prose and told me to just copy and paste. But the style was so different from mine that I couldn’t use it. I pulled out a few words that made the expressions more precise and worked them into my own writing.
Gemini also mentioned that some of the comments I’d received on Reddit weren’t written by bots — actual humans had written them. I’d assumed they were bots because they were so rude, and I’d written “Reddit, train your bots better” — now I had to figure out how to fix that line.
ChatGPT would start with a compliment, then point out two or three things to change.
Claude would suggest reordering paragraphs, flag what needed more detail, and identify what could be cut short. In one post where I’d stitched together three Google Blog entries in chronological order, Claude told me to move something I’d written in November back to July. Claude also said that listing out all my game titles in a row broke the flow, and that I should just write “I made five games.” My daughter read the post and agreed with Claude.
“Think about the difference between writing ‘I dated Kim Minseok, Lee Yeoreum, Kim Shin, Jo Cheolsang, and Han Gyeonghun’ versus just saying ‘I’ve had five ex-boyfriends.’ Nobody cares about the names. Save each ex for his own detailed post.”
Two days later I met a friend and showed her my Brunch drafts on my phone. She told me that whether or not to put a period after a subheading is a matter of choice — but you have to be consistent. So I went through and removed all the periods from my subheadings.
I told her there was one sentence that all the AIs had agreed was good, and she read it. She said to add single quotation marks inside the sentence. So “My mood became feeling good every day” became “My mood became ‘feeling good every day.’”
I submitted my application on a Monday morning. By Thursday afternoon, when I went to Brunch, the screen had changed and the option to edit my application was gone — which is how I knew I’d been accepted.
I was so happy that I sent the Brunch link to friends over KakaoTalk and received their congratulations. The friend who had helped me edit my posts said she wanted to try becoming a Brunch writer too, and asked me to share my tips.
I was so elated that I spent an entire day just celebrating and buzzing with excitement.
But becoming a Brunch writer didn’t change anything. I’d used up all my energy just sustaining the happiness, and then I crashed.
I went back to what I do — made a game in no time flat. There’s a backlog of things to fix on Soosooland, a backlog of blog post ideas piling up. Making and fixing games takes concentration, so I’m writing this as a little break. In the meantime, I registered one more copyright, and Soosooland has now reached 2,500 users.
Brunch (브런치) is a Korean blogging platform by Kakao, known for its clean, magazine-style layout and curated writing community. Unlike general blogs, writers must apply and pass a review to publish. It has a reputation for thoughtful, literary personal essays.
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