A day that could safely be described as difficult. I got another rejection for the novel this morning – and while I’d like to say I was terribly stoic and solid as a result of this negative news, I’d be lying through my teeth. It’s one of those times when I could really do with a gigantic amount of work to keep me occupied and stop the dogs in my head from barking, but fate being its usual self, I’ve got a semi-quiet patch before a serious amount of proof-reading, followed by the Edinburgh Film Festival which, together, will take up most of June. I’m just feeling rather tired and in need of distraction at the moment, like I’m patiently waiting for something that’s never actually going to arrive, and while I know I’ve got to be positive, there’s also a side of me that needs to forget about this and damn well get on with stuff. It’s never good when your usual outlets for relaxing after this kind of thing don’t work, or when you have the bright idea to call someone for a chat and it turns out that nobody’s home.
Anyway- while I may be a little down, I’m not out. And I’m certainly not about to let any of this beat me.
Saxon Bullock 
It’s such an awful pending feeling when you’ve got work (especially a bloody 400 page or whatever novel) on submission. I’ve never been able to find a way of thinking about it that does any good. Burying oneself in other things is the best way, but when the rejections come, they still hurt like hell no matter how you tell yourself they’re part of the game. It truly, truly sucks, and it seems to suck out of all proportion to what it should, given that we know it’s an integral part of writing and certainly of submitting, that it can’t be avoided, that it happens to everyone–it should suck less, right? If that makes any sense.
Here’s hoping you can find a worthy distraction soon. A watched pot definitely never boils…
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Thanks. Am now attempting to instill ‘Forward Motion’ in my head, and not stare too bitterly at my E-mail inbox. Plus, I’m at least still having some funky ideas about my latest project, and I think completing it would be more important than anyone ever seeing it (at least, at the moment…)
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Damn, I’m sorry for your disappointment (and ours) How bloody for you.
And here I was thinking this would be a good day for you, having heard Russell T was leaving Whoville.
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(not that I’m a big fan of motivational movies and posters)
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Damn their eyes.
I reckon rejections cluster, the better to fuck with us hard-working writers.
I once had three (two short stories, one novel) in three days. Toys were not hurled from pram (I’m too old and jaded for that) but an excess of cab. sav. was consumed.
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