For the past three weeks I have been having a really hard time getting my mail, No, this isn't my real mailbox. I can't even SHOW you my mailbox because THAT is the reason why I'm not getting any mail. It's gone. Stolen. What the what??? Who would want an old, beat up mailbox anyway? It wasn't exactly a collector's item.
But it was mine. My little connection with the outside world. A place where everything from bills to rejection letters to wonderfully autographed children's books could make a stop at my house. I know some people don't like things like rejection letters. I get it. I work so hard on my own stories...chipping away at the excess junk until all that is left is a lean, mean sparkling collection of words to tell the story I want to share.
There are even times when I welcome those little rejection letters. Especially when they give me insight into how to improve my writing. I've been sending queries out like crazy this past month and the responses are coming in. While all of them have been in the negative, ALL have been either outright encouraging or in come cases, loaded with specific suggestions on what I need to do to increase my chances of future publication.
How can I not love those rejection letters? Now if I can just get my mailbox back...I've got some more queries to send out...