I got my first personal rejection letter from an agent the other day. It said, “You write well” but she didn’t connect with my work as she had “hoped.”
I’ve read it about fifty times, trying to analyze and pick apart the words, the tone. Does she mean I write WELL? What did she hope?
Now that the manuscript is complete, the journey begins. I hear about well-known works getting 400 rejections and so on before publication. While that is encouraging that someday my work will find a home, I don’t like the idea of analyzing 400 rejection letters, picking apart their sentence structure like I’m a great decoder.
Thick skin. Balls. Nerves of Steel. Phrases I’ve been told that are supposed to bring comfort in an odd way. These are the things I must acquire, must integrate into my personality to keep moving ahead.
Thick skin. Balls. Nerves of Steel. Here I come. I hope.
Filed under: Bi-Polar, Creative Nonfiction, Depression, Memoir, Nonfiction, Publishing, Uncategorized, Writing | 31 Comments
Tags: Bipolar, Rejection, Trying to Publish
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This page is all about my memoir - "What's Broken, What's Breaking Down." It details my misadventures, mishaps, and madness from blue-collar Michigan to metro Minneapolis and everything in-between. Plus some snarky side comments and observations from time to time.
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