I know you’re not supposed to talk about these things online, but I’m going to.
I’ve just had a big disappointment.
Big.
To speak plainly, I had a book on submission for almost a year, and now it’s no longer on submission.
Some of you know me and know more about what’s been going on behind the scenes. Let me just say thank you to all you awesome writer-buddies for your support and camaraderie. I know you know what this feels like. And to everybody who’s visited the blog and left comments this year, I thank you as well and apologize for not replying to comments as much as I should have. My energy, especially this past month, has been at an all-time low.
I hope you’ll forgive me if I withdraw from The Internets for a while and lick my literary wounds. The timing is right anyway since the holidays are almost here, and I’m sure, like me, you’ll soon decamp to your bucolic winter cabins in the Catskills to make mulled wine and popcorn strings with cherished family members, all of whom are wearing matching sweaters. (Oh, no, wait. That's the L.L. Bean catalog. I get that confused with my own life sometimes....)
For sure there are bigger tragedies in the world than not selling your book. But, still, it’s hard to see the ball go sailing for the fence and think you’ve hit a home run, only to hear the sound of it hitting the center fielder’s mitt at the warning track. Yep, it was just another long, fly ball.
I’m all right. I may be standing atop the smoking ruins of my hopes, but I’m still standing. And can I say that I’m actually kind of proud of myself? Weird, huh? Just two short years ago, I started this blog, barely able to publicly admit that I was a writer. I used to get physically ill when I so much as thought about writing a query letter. Why? Because I feared what would happen if I failed. What if I worked my heart out on something and it went down in flames?
Well, that’s where I am.
And you know what? It’s really not as bad as I thought it would be. So if you’re reading this and you’re in the same boat, seriously, it’s OK. Failure is just a step in the process. The Monday after I heard the final nail being banged into the coffin for my manuscript, I sat down at my desk and worked just like any other day. I'm writing something new that I’m excited about, and I’ll keep at it. What else can you do?
So there we have it. 2011 has left me older, wiser, and frankly, somewhat appalled, but I’m still feeling feisty.
Just wait 'til next year.
