First Rejection

I'm generally a depressed person. I remember being depressed when writing the "Hypocondria Today" post below. Or at least wondering if I was depressed.

So, now that I've got my first rejection letter (a really, really short form rejection letter from Tor), I should be depressed, right?

Well, I'm not. I mean, it hurts, but I mean, duh. I didn't have illusions about it. It would have been nice to have been accepted, but let's come on people, crap like this gets published, so obviously previous publication is about a thousand times more important than writing ability. (I'm not recommending that book by the way. By fourth book, when I knew that every conversation had to be repeated by every major male and female character before the plot could progress, so every time something was said I groaned.)

So, obviously the next place I turn is Eos, who published Convergence by Sharon Green.

The real problem is, the book that I'm submitting is part of my baby, and usually the book, movie, song that is the artist's baby sucks. Now, granted, I don't think that "Endless Light" (which is the working title of the series, and is better sounding than the throw away title I made up for the book submission) sucks, but how would I know. No one ever thinks that their own writing sucks.

Granted, Mike and Jeff liked it. But they liked the ideas. How well I'm translating that onto the page is debatable.

And, you know. I'm kinda okay with the idea that I got a rejection letter. It would have been cool to be accepted on my first try submitting, but that's not realistic. Maybe within twenty?

Also, I should really work on a couple of short stories and shop them around. Now, all I have to do is find a magazine that publishes gay-themed science fiction, and I'm set.