I don't cry over rejections.  I mean, I haven't.   The not crying isn't a conscious decision I've made.  Rejections numb me.  I read them again and again and again.  And for those minutes, I'm alone with the words, and I cease to feel anything at all.  And then, I (metaphorically) pick myself up and move on.

But just now--a little over 24 hours after receiving that last one--I did cry.  

I was trying to respond to an email from a friend in publishing who frequently works with the agent who sent that rejection and who is a million times more knowlegable about this whole business-of-writing thing than I am.  She is being super, super supportive.  I mean, I wasn't whining or anything; just letting her know the status of things because she likes me to keep her updated.   She wrote me this really long response about how this rejection is a good and significant thing, that I need to take a moment to let that sink in, that I have the potential to do something great with my writing, that I shouldn't rush this or settle.  And lots and lots of stuff like that.

And I guess it's like, she's telling me that, in her opinion, I have it.  That I'm going to do it.  Someday.  Maybe not with Seth's story.  But someday.  I'm close.  But not close enough.  Maybe not yet.  There's something missing, I know what it is, and now I just need to figure out what to do about it. 

So, I was trying to respond to that.   To say that I've already been thinking about this and preparing myself for the idea that this book might not go anywhere.  That I learned so much about voice and point of view from writing Seth that it was all worth it, and now I'm ready to apply what I learned there with what I'm now learning about hook and plot.   I'm okay with this maybe not being the one.   

But that?  Is. A. Lie.  

So, I'm crying.  And I'm writing about the fact that I'm crying so that I can come back and re-read this some day and see how I was keeping it so very real, yos.  And so that I won't forget that I have, in fact, cried over a rejection letter.

Yes, I'll feel better tomorrow.  I'll feel better as the days go on.  I'm not okay with this yet, but I will become so if need be.  And I'll do it all better next time.  The absolute truth is that even if does turn out that the concensus is that my pacing really was for shit and my characters aren't as deep as they could be, etc., I know that I did not let myself down with my latest project.  In February 2008, I finished writing the best story I was capable of at that time.  I can only get better now.  The next one will be better.  So, if it isn't going to be the one, maybe the one after that will be.