This is the bomb. It’s also the truth.
A couple of days ago, I got another rejection letter from an agent who requested my full manuscript back in May 2015. Since then, I’ve been in the mental fog that for me accompanies rejection, my mind a swirling mess of hurt, determination, envy, self-doubt, resolution, and a thousand other mixed-up feelings. Oh, the feelings.
I’ve been mulling over how to how to articulate this. Actually, “mulling” sounds kind of spicy and pleasantly warming. What I’ve been doing is more accurately described as “obsessing.” How do I communicate all these thoughts without being a Whiny McGripeypants? (Clearly I am running out of words. Send help. Ideally in the form of a thesaurus and vast quantities of ice cream that is 50% cookies, 50% candy, and 50% ice cream. Yeah, I can’t do math either.)
This morning I took the dogs for a walk, hoping to shake things loose. Walking always…
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