I’m feeling less like the narcissistic pitty party goer today. I’d like to blame an array of things for my own self-doubt but at the end of the day, that’s all is. My own self-doubt. I sent out five new queries yesterday and updated the blog for North Sound Writers. I tried to stay as productive as possible on a day where not even work needed my attentions. My book smells like coffee but it will survive.
I wanted to share the rejection letter with you. Mostly because there are a lot of really nice things said. I don’t feel its appropriate to share who it’s from or what book it’s about or even where we met. Anonymity can be important. But I do like to stay as positive as possible about these things.
So here she is. It was a good letter. Just not the one I wanted. It’s a good book and as hard as it was to read, and proccess, I’m not giving up. I still refuse to self-pub. I want the dream. I know that about myself. I’m willing to publish with a small press but I don’t want to do it myself. I want to know that someone else is willing to take a chance on me. On this thing we created. This thing which took months of my life. I love it dearly. All I want is for other people to love it too.
Rejection is hard and it fucking sucks. But it’s not the end of the world. It’s not the end all be all. Often it’s not even noteworthy. But sometimes when it takes you by surprise and it hurts like the dickens, it’s okay to say so. It’s okay to feel it. It’s okay to feel lost and it’s okay to go to bed early and watch sappy movies. As long as you remember to get up the next day. Get up and start fresh. Don’t give up. There is a difference.
Giving up is not in my vocabulary. Dear writer friend, it shouldn’t be in yours either.