Rejected

I’m sure you’ll hear about this later in the week—no, wait this week we start my promo, so the weekend after but I thought since it’s a first I should talk about it now.

 

This morning I woke to a rejection letter—sob

 

Maybe not real tears have fallen from my eyes, but I’ve had a few different feelings about this.

 

1)      The first was a stubborn fact that it didn’t matter to me at all. Hell I knew it was going to happen anyway this was just proof

2)      Shit… yep, that’s what you are, shit.

3)      It’s was most likely because of the fact that you don’t actually write a full on story, because it wasn’t rounded and tied off, that’s probably it.

·         Or you know, it’s just shit as

 

Which was alone the base line of the shit that ran through my brain from when I woke and read the letter to when I got home from dropping my kids off at school.

 

I took a break, and I facebooked, and I let myself actually feel that loss and hatefulness for a moment, because I should be allowed to wallow in it. I should be allowed a moment where my pity party can springs up high and everyone’s there talking, drinking, and having a wonderful time.

 Then I pull up my big boy pants and get over it.

 

The hardest thing, I believe, is the fact that NJ Nielsen is already starting to weed herself into the back of my mind. She’s an annoying little voice that has told me that I need to get over this and be happy again because, I am awesome, and this is just something that happens in life.

 

Which had my thoughts turn something like this

 

Facts are that yes I got rejected, it happened, as late as it is now (in the day), I even realise that I feel more fulfilled because of it. I feel as if I’m actually an author. Because that’s what happened, it’s a fact of life, and it’s what’s happened to me now.

 

Facts are I got my very first “it’s not me, it’s you” speech, and though I’m more than sure it’s a staple letter, it was still very much that.

 

this was not a reflection on the quality of your story but a factor of the limitations of length and the necessary mix of story elements

 

Facts are that it clearly wasn’t what they wanted, and now I have a short story I can now put it up as a blog story, which is awesome because I might not actually have anything published next month, so I’ll see how it goes and put it up then.

 

And with an added bonus of some fb friends and a lunch chat with Penny Brandon I have been able to process the whole deal without too much thought inside my head and come to the conclusion that I’m fine.

 

I’m fine.

Honestly, and totally, completely, fine, which isn’t something that would have happened even a week ago.