Whoa boy what a Monday. Started with the migraine from you-know-where, which threw my whole day off from 6AM on. In fact, I’m still fighting it, but that could be because of what happened about 10 this morning.
I hadn’t expected it so soon, but got the response on my submission to an editor I pitched to in NJ. Yeah, response. A.K.A. rejection. My mystery was “lackluster” and even though she loved (her word, not mine) elements of LET’S DISH, she thought the story was not original enough.
So it’s not like rejection is anything new. Any writer out there who has submitted anything has been rejected at least once, and probably countless times. But I had a good feeling about this one. And I’ll admit it, the lackluster comment took a little wind out of my sails. Kind of an ouch, although the lady was very kind in her rejection. It’s not like she wrote, “Gee, this book sucks. What the hell were you thinking?”
So whenever this happens, I see myself at a crossroads. You see, I am incredibly fortunate. I’m good at my 9-5 job and could advance more if I chose to, but that would require some school. As in grad school. Which would take any time I have left in my life that I dedicate to my writing. Then again, I’m not too thrilled with the idea of grad school. But then again, I could just dive into it for a couple years and be qualified to do a boatload of stuff, including being an elementary pricipal. As if I would want to.
But it would mean saying goodbye to the writing, at least for now. Hell, it’s not like I’ve dedicated myself to it all that much lately. But this is something I’ve done since I was a kid. It’s not like my brain is going to stop writing just because I’ve stopped typing it out.
Yes, I think this is a crossroads all wannabe writers come to. Multiple times, probably. And it’s not unusual and it can’t discourage me. Although, sometimes I wonder if God gave me a good many things that I’m good at, but in which I’m just not good enough. I’m a good violinist, but not that good. I’m a good singer, but not good enough to ever do anything professional other than being a music teacher. I’m a good writer, but not good enough to actually make it as a writer.
But heck… I like beating my head against walls. I’ll probably pitch in Green Bay.