Photo: Contemplation

Someone recently asked me how I know what to submit when preparing a ms proposal.  Research, I guess, and lots of it.  Retracting any amount of presumption, albeit following what one believes an agent or publisher could only hope to see located in the nadir of slush piles… at the end of the day (admittedly with internal whimpering and trepidation) I’m still the girl curled beneath a mound of blankets whispering, “I see mailboxes…”

Dejectedly, this isn’t to anticipate Bruce Willis hovering at bedside in the chaos of the night, but it is, I’m certain, a highly universal feeling among writers, welcomed freelancers, and authors alike.  I guess everyone has to start somewhere, right?  I’m not bashing… I’m lovingly venting.  I’m a writer, it’s tough. Rejection is tough, but I try to take it with the strongest grain of salt because it’s way better than the teary-eyed alternative.  But the purgatory of the returned SASE dregs leaves me perpetually twitchy and honestly, I think I just threw up in my mouth.  Yuck.  Obscured within the quasi-chill ambiance of my cluttered office space that looks anything like what I imagine it should be…  I self-commiserate, assuming this (waiting period) must be what hell feels like, probably worse, actually. 

Okay, that’s a little extreme… whatever.   It’s been one of those days!

Trackback URI | Comments RSS