rejection tastes funny

as you may have read...a million or so times, i wrote a book and have been shopping for an agent. overall the process has been fun and exciting...educational BUT that hasn't stopped me from freaking out each evening i kurplunk into my garage and park my car. 

no, it's not because my car is now officially a hoopty. it's something for real scary. terrifying's the mailbox...THE MAILBOX DRAWS NEAR!!! save the babies! protect the livestock! 

when i get out of my car and start walking towards the entry door i realize that i'll enter into a room that contains pandora's box--a mystery box of letters...from agents. i also know that one simple letter could totally change my whole freaking life path. how crazy is that?! one piece of paper. you should see me once i actually hold the envelope. it takes me minutes of contemplation to compose myself before i can open it. if the guy is around he has to do the dirty work for me and Lord help him if he doesn't rip it open fast and slow enough for my liking.

that poor man may loose a ball some day...possibly a finger from the massive paper cut i'd unintentionally give him from snatching the life changer out of his hand. i realize i'm a pickle which makes my hysterics cute and least that's the story i'm sticking to.

so far each day has brought me a SINGLE.RESPONSE.FROM.ONE.AGENT. the first letter was a polite and generic rejection. the second letter was a bit more positive--the agent said she admired my work and gave me some agents to hit up. the third letter wasn't a no or a yes, but rather instructions to submit via email. then yesterday i got the results back from the email agent...a polite, tiny no. hmph. then no other letters in the actual mail...i'm purposely being toyed with in the head. my noodle doesn't like being canoodled either.

here's what i know for sure. writing the book was a joy and cathartic to boot. the submission process has been relatively straight forward. i send out 14. i hear back. if they're all boo boo, then i'll send out more until that beloved yes comes in. this sort of rejection tastes different than all the others. it's not like being dumped by a dude or turned down for an audition. i know my writing's meant to be out there and i know there's gonna be an agent...i just have to keep on truckin'. that aside, it still blows to read rejections every day. 

at least it's a free pass with the guy...if he starts to tease me about something i just bring up the fact that i feel rejected and lost and i got instant sweetie patooty back. oh yeah! 

this rejection tastes funny, but i'm pretty sure it means the yes letter will be the best tasting victory i've ever had. if not look for me at the corner bar sprinkling lithium in my booze or chopping off an appendage like the true arteests.


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