It's completing a 5k in record time and then realizing that you've only just begun The Great Wall of China.
It's rock climbing and making it to the top of the hill; when, alas, you stand and fall instantly into quicksand.
It's the feeling of falling from the Eiffel Tower and never stopping.
It's yelling into oblivion, but the words never escape your chest.
It's the absolute worst and somehow bittersweet.
I've made it this far, but there are still so many hurdles to jump over; there are acres of unmarked territory. The unknown is terrifying.
My literary agent is hopeful and determined, and the editors who have read my manuscript have had many positive comments--which is kinda weird to me (weird in that I forget that editors are actually people sometimes).
Though their comments have been laced in sweetness, none have requested an R&R (revise and resubmit), and none have requested an offer of representation. They love the writing, they love the main character, but it's still not the "right" fit.
I find myself reading their comments over and over again, trying to find some hope.
But, ya'll, it is hard.
It's just one of those really nice rejections.
So all in all I have less than 10 rejections, which really isn't all that bad, but again, this waiting game can be horrific.
That's all for this one.
Till next time, blog world.
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