Come on, though. Eleven is both odd and prime--how could I resist?
On the other hand, I also got a rejection today--of the partial request. This means that I should sit down, evaluate, and send out a few more queries. I really get into my queries, though, so it's a huge time commitment. Plus, I'm a little at a loss to know where to go from here. I don't know what I should query or if maybe I should go back and do another set of revisions. I don't know.
This process is a downer, you know?
I seem to be specializing in rejections received on holidays. "Yay! I have the whole day to (opens inbox) spend contemplating my worth as a person and a writer." I got a rejection on Halloween too. (Big ouch, huh?)
Anyway, as luck would or would not have it, this was the only agent I sent Re: Straint out to, and that's also the one that made it into the contest last night.
So, I guess today's post is about continuing writing not always because you're recognized, or published, or whatever. It's about continuing not because it's healthy, because anyone who can type 50 K in eleven days is so far from healthy. (Plus, I am, in fact, the direct opposite of healthy thanks to this nasty cold.) It's not even about even or odd numbers or going to 51K because it's odd. Well, it's a little about that. It's about continuing writing because somewhere deep in your shriveled and sad little soul, it's what you are and "not writing" isn't actually possible.
Anyway, I've conned someone into letting me ditch the kids with them after a minimal amount of infecting them with my presence. In the mean time, goodbye, cold, cruel world and warm, funny, and caring followers.