I would like to say I'm writing this post with reserved detachment. I'd like to report absolutely no emotional reaction to the thin rejection letter I received today in my SASE (ya know, the self-addressed, stamped envelope you send with your manuscript so you can make rejection delivery as simple as possible for editors and agents). I'd like to tell you that I didn't cry for a minute in my kitchen once I processed the rejection. But I can't.
Yes, it was my first novel. Yes, it's taken forever to get from A to R (rejection). Yes, I was pretty amazed that I was able to impress two agents with my query letter. Yes, I'm aware, that statistically the chances of writing a break-out first novel are damn slim.
However, I can't feign indifference and practicality at this point. I was bummed, really bummed. But, I'm ready to cry monkey and ready to move forward. And like any optimist worth his (or her) salt, the best I can do is pat myself on the back for reaching a personal goal and feel thankful for how much I learned about writing, publishing, editing, querying and even myself during the process. The truth is, writing is damn hard work and takes lots of time - something I could really use more of, or should be making more of.
Now the question is what next? Write a new book? Start something else? I'm not sure. I thought about self-publishing this book but I'm not convinced it's THE book. That's telling me something. Thinking, thinking, thinking....and movin' on.
THE END
- for now
Many many thanks for the loving support and encouragement of great friends and family. Happy face here. Really.
Ironically, I just read this in an e-mail from a pitch conference in NYC, literally twenty minutes after reading "the rejection letter":
If you believe you don't have to be an apprentice at your craft for years before you can hope to write a publishable ms, then you are fooling yourself in the worst way.
