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*Sin perches on a railing and watches as Marn tries unsuccessfully to calm her.* "She's being thankful."
*Hellie* "Is her life really that bad?"
*Sin* "Nah. She's just out on submission. It's hard to stay thankful."
*Marn whips around* "Shh! Don't remind her!"
*Hellie* "Ohh. Well. Nothing like a nice rejection letter to remind a pirate to stay thankful."
As we all know, we're approximately T-minus-76-hours from Thanksgiving Dinner. I love Thanksgiving Dinner. I love smashing as many family members as you can around a table, all the yelling and "Hey, that was the last roll!" and insults being flung around. Last year, there was even a fork almost stabbed into someone's hand (my husband's family takes the roll situation seriously. God forbid we ever run out).
And then comes the question. "What are you thankful for this year?"
Now, I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a healthy family, job security, and a comfortable home. At the moment, there's not much more I can ask for. And I am thankful for all that.
But at the same time, there's this every-growing cloud of fear and rejection. My agent sent out my manuscript in October. And we heard nothing for a full month. It's good news, he told me. A full month without a pass is spectacular!
But even spectacular things come to an end, and the rejections started rolling in. It wasn't a big shock. We all face it. I've faced rejection before and I'll face it again. But man, it sucks. Every time I look at the emails again, I focus on these lines. These are the rejection lies. Some masochistic instinct makes me re-read them on a daily basis.
But this week, pirates, it's Thanksgiving. Screw masochistic impulses to rub salt in wounds. Forget wallowing in the descending cloud of realizing that this may not be the book. This one may have to go under the bed, and then it's going to be time to start over.
Back away from the knife block, ladies.
Oh, was I the only one? *stealthily sliding paring knife back into its slot*
So what do you do? When all you want to do is throw down the pen, lower your forehead to the table, and let out low, guttural moaning noises. When the thought of revising one more time makes your toes shrivel up in your special Thanksgiving socks.
No, really. I'm asking. What the hell do I do next?
I've been working on another project I was excited about, targeted for Harlequin Blaze. But Harlequin's craptasitc debacle killed that enthusiasm.
I signed up for my Spring classes, including "Conflict in Romance" and "Putting the Thrill in your Thriller," and that's exciting.
But the only thing that really works is to look at how far I've come, take a few deep breaths from my paper bag, and tell myself that if I've improved this far, I'll keep improving, and someday....somehow....I'll be getting different letters. In the mean time, I've blacked out all the bad words in those rejection letter, and am now only reading the pretty words that are left:
They make me feel warm and fuzzy. Yes, I know, there's a giant BUT coming (see the rejection nasty words above), but it's Thanksgiving. I can just stare at the pretty, fuzzy words, and pretend the bad ones don't exist.
So let's hear it wenches! What are you thankful for this year? What milestones have you passed, goals have you met or benchmarks have you flown over? What are your accomplisments? This is your chance to brag! Forget the rejections. Black out those words. What pretty words are you left with?