I will admit that lately I've been struggling with something: rejections. And I don't mean mine; I mean yours. Of course, I don't mean yours in particular; I mean yours in general. I think a lot of writers like to imagine agents and editors sitting in their ivory towers denying or rejecting prospective projects with fiendish glee. If only it were so. If I could reject with fiendish glee, I would, it would make my job so much easier. Instead, I tend to reject with reluctant trepidation.
It's Not You, It's Me
It's Not You, It's Me
It's Not You, It's Me
I will admit that lately I've been struggling with something: rejections. And I don't mean mine; I mean yours. Of course, I don't mean yours in particular; I mean yours in general. I think a lot of writers like to imagine agents and editors sitting in their ivory towers denying or rejecting prospective projects with fiendish glee. If only it were so. If I could reject with fiendish glee, I would, it would make my job so much easier. Instead, I tend to reject with reluctant trepidation.