I had another rejection today. It was for novel 2 and my hopes for it had increased the longer they kept it. I should know better.
But what I realised, a little later after opening the email, was that I hadn't expected it to be good news. There was nothing about the email - before opening - that yelled REJECTION but I was ready for it. It occurs to me that I have lost faith in my writing. Maybe not lost faith in my writing but definitely lost any expectation of it being published.
And then I started to really depress myself ... what if, what if I'm not a writer? I've never won any prizes or acclamation, so maybe I'm just fooling myself. I'm not really any good at writing stories. There are some things I know - I think - I can write but maybe fiction just isn't among those things.
My self-published novel was received very well but maybe that's because it was a) mostly people who know me reading it, and b) too close to the truth to be true fiction.
On the other hand Friday seems to be a popular day for sending out rejections. Maybe agents reach the end of a week, see the pile of manuscripts they haven't read getting bigger and reject them all out of hand, to clear their desks before the weekend. Yes, that's much better reasoning. I can cope with that.
Labels: novel 2