I’m not doing too hot at this blog-writing thing. One post in months. I picture the small unnamed monster from Monster’s Inc. slapping his large partner and crying, “Keep it together, man!” Well, I took a day off work on 5/15 to submit my very first serious queries to a select group of agents. Now I have to get the blog going, start a Twitter, etc.
Of course, I expect only rejections. I was always a little thrilled by the thought of getting rejections, probably because of the mental image of Stephen King as a young man, poking his rejection letters through a railroad spike, affixed to the wall above his desk. I would like to do something similar, but I’ll have less paper this time around – it will probably just be me printing out canned responses, “It’s not right for us, but someone else might feel differently”, carbon imprint be cored.
My father once received a Tibetan prayer flag in the mail, from a nonprofit asking for money. It was a plain white string with colored paper flags glued over it, evenly spaced, different colors but all the same gold design. I’d like to hang my rejections that way, the same words but perhaps I will color them, or have my grandmother paint her lovely whimsical designs on them, and let them flutter above my desk, reminding me that a rejection is still a step in this path I have never walked before.