Well, I was waiting to hear from Bold Stroke Books regarding my manuscript...I had expected to wait a while longer. I'm going to make an educated guess and say that they reject the super shitty books faster than others because, yes, that's right, my piece of shit story was rejected faster than a speeding bullet. Yup, I got the standard, "We regret to inform you that your piece of crap story is not what we're looking for at the moment...And if we're going to be honest, it's not what we're looking for...ever. If you were smart, then you'd print out your manuscript, dump a good gallon of gasoline on the printed pages, and set the thing on fire. PS: If you have any extra gas left, feel free to dump it over your head and then smoke a cigarette because you can't write worth a shit. Good luck finding someone to pick up your story!" And then they sign it with a cheery happy face. *rolls eyes*
Okay, that's not how it goes, but that's what it feels like. The rejection letters are worded nicely and, I'm sure, are supposed to make the sting of rejection feel a little better. But that's like getting lemon juice in a paper cut and then blowing on it; it takes away the sting for a minute, but you still have lemon juice in a paper cut!! Do you get what I'm saying? It's like if you had a splitting headache and some jackass came along and stomped on your foot. For a moment, you'd forget that you had a headache because now your foot is killing you...But then the throbbing would die down and you'd be like, "Fuck, I still have that headache." It's like...well, you get the idea.
No matter how nicely they word the rejection, it's a blow to one's ego. Have we discussed the size of the average ego? So, most people I know have an average sized ego, which is maybe the size of a standard couch. I know a few whose egos are at least the size of the state of Texas...With that said, my ego is roughly the size of, ummm...The Universe. *straight face* Do not hurt my pride. I'm a mother-effing (not literally) Leo. We are egotistical. Deal with it. I know I'm good...Right up until someone says otherwise and takes the wind right out of my sails. Of course, this was not the sort of news I needed at work yesterday. I know, you're thinking, "They called you at work." No, they're not that cool. Although that would've been weird if I answered the phone and they were like, "Heather? This is so-and-so from..." Weird. No, I got the email on my phone. Damn my ultra cool phone that does so much!!! I got the news and it was like a punch to my stomach. When I had sent it into the other publishers, I was like, "Yeah right...They're not going to publish it." But this time, this time, I was like, "Dude, this might happen. People like my freakin' story! They just might publish it." I was the fool because I let myself hope, just a little. Normally, I'm a total realist (or pessimist, if you follow Phoenix's line of thinking) and I don't let myself dream or hope because I know the real world and how it works. So yeah, it hurt like hell to read it. It hurt just as badly when I reread it after I read it the first time. I felt like I had a bowling ball in my belly and a lump the size of Russia in my throat. I didn't want to be at work anymore; I wanted to be at home, in bed, with the covers over my head. Of course, this wasn't an option...Instead, I had to take like thirty back to back calls because our payment system went down, so we went from being dead to "OH MY GOD EVERYBODY ON THE PHONES NOW!" in like three seconds time. So, yeah, that sucked...
And whereas I appreciate all the kind words from everybody about how I'm a good writer and all that, at the same time I have the overwhelming urge to yell at you all. I know, it's not nice. I know, it makes me a bitch. I'm okay with that. Phoenix posted on my facebook yesterday something about JK Rowling and how she was rejected a ton of times for Harry Potter. Yeah, and we all know how huge Harry Potter is now. I get it. Stephenie Meyer was rejected for Twilight. I know. And that just goes to show that sometimes the good ones get rejected too...However, I'm not mother-fucking JK Rowling or Stephenie Meyer!! I don't give a flying rat's ass how many times they were rejected! They aren't me!! Isn't that horrible? I mean, I shouldn't think that, but it's how I feel. I should take comfort in these thoughts, but I can't. I just don't care. And only people who've been rejected for something they put all their blood, sweat, and tears into can understand how much it sucks to have it not work. I mean, imagine if you were a stand up comedian (which I swear is about to become my "Plan E" because none of my other plans are working...And I never should've listened to my mom when I was graduating high school. I should've run off and done stand up comedy!), so you're a stand up comic and you spent hours and hours writing jokes for a routine, right? So, you go up in front of an audience and tell your jokes. You've tested them on family and friends and everyone dies laughing, so you know you're golden. There you are, on stage, telling your jokes and no one laughs. All you hear is crickets, right up until someone yells, "You suck!" Then out comes the giant hook to drag your ass off the stage. Like that's how it feels. But unless you experience it, you still don't get it...
I got this news on Tuesday. I fucking hate Tuesdays. It was a bad day yesterday with mean people on the phones, the system went down at work and people were pissed because for about an hour they weren't able to make payments, and then I got this news in the middle of it all. Really? I'm so over Tuesdays. I think I'm going to start using my vacation days at work to take off Tuesdays...like every Tuesday. *straight face* I'm not kidding.
On a side note, I need to write something for a friend of mine who I haven't been able to get in touch with...Eliza (My old British Cube Mate from work), if you're reading this, can you please email me? I emailed you and you haven't responded. I'm worried about you...So are the other people we trained with. They ask me nearly daily if I've heard from you. Please, let me know you're okay. I am seriously hoping that you still come to read my blogs. I do hope everything is okay with you. I am begging you...Email me, call me, send a singing telegram, you know, something. *grins*
I guess that's about it for now. I needed to blog about the rejection thing because it's eating me inside. I didn't even want to write after it all, but then today, I found myself picking up my pen between calls at work to write. It pisses me off. I want to be mad and not write, but I can't even help myself! Bah! Someone has to realize I have a good story some day, right? Right? *hears no response* Come on! *crickets* Ehhh, fuck it all, I say...In the meantime, I'll keep sending it off to places and I'll print those fucking rejection letters and I'll use them to wallpaper my living room and then all my friends can see just how badly my writing sucks balls. Peace out, folks!
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