I heard the sound of the post landing on the hall floor. Usually I ignore it, or pick it up and leave it on the sideboard for days, but one of the envelopes caught my attention. It was a thin SAE.
My heart sank: another rejection.
I took it into the kitchen and reluctantly opened it. As long as it remained unopened I would have hope; best to put hope in its place.
I read, 'Thank you for sending us your manuscript but unfortunately ...' Wait; it doesn't say that. '... looks like an interesting project and we'd like to review the rest of the manuscript.'
Waaaahhhh! I screamed. Silently because Husband was in a teleconference.
I wrote an email to Daughter to tell her, then went back to read the letter again in case I'd misunderstood. No, that was definitely what it said. Husband was off the phone by now so I told him. He was pleased for me but said, 'You haven't written the rest, have you?'
Tsh, that's a minor problem. It's easier to write a novel than it is to get a publisher to read it.
Of course since then I've walked George and talked myself into a more realistic state of mind. 'They probably won't like it once they've seen it all. They'll change their minds. They'll realise it's not good enough. Blah, blah, blah.'
Still it made the sun shine even more brightly for me today.