It’s the beginning of another month and one step closer to the backyard showing signs of life and looking less like a Columbian drug-lord's warehouse. Since I have not done anything of this nature for a while, I thought I’d start off each month with some shameless self promotion. This will be an exercise to remind me that I still love to write and there is some purpose in it which is yet hidden from me.
As I seek representation , I need to fill the gaps and at least give my self some semblance of forward progression. You don’t get that so much from form letters of rejection. Now I’m not sniveling in a "poor me," context here. Remember I was in the music business and believe me if I couldn’t take the set backs I would have left the cake burning in the kitchen long ago.
Maybe rejection is the wrong message? It’s not so much a statement of declination as it is encouragement to seek representation elsewhere. Apparently Agents and Publishers just love it when they’re wrong and can boast about the one that got away. "Yuppers, that John Grisham, we knew he had the potential but we just couldn’t fit him into the roster."
I understand the publishing industry is no less competitive and exhausting than any other form of entertainment.However, it is a place where I am happiest. So here is a snippet from my first novel that is for the hundred or so fellow bloggers who travel here weekly and a reminder to myself to continue on in the belief. The snow will melt one day.
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