Morning's kiss wakes TREES and flowers,
And to them I'd like to drink a toast;
I walk in the park just to kill lonely hours,
Spring Can really Hang You Up The Most.
I am weepy. For no particular reason.
People mention something that makes them sad or happy or contemplative and I find myself tearing up. A local celebrity dies early and unexpectedly and I cannot hear his songs without crying although I had no great personal connection with him or his music.
I am irritable for no particular reason. Intolerant of actions that I disagree with.
I find myself thinking of people who don't do what I want as being Not Smart. Which is likely not the case. At least not always the case. They just have a different way of doing things. Different from the one that I think is right. Different priorities. Which makes them STOOPID.
I am also indulging more in quite smutty, poorly-written romance novels, perhaps as a way to overcompensate for the weepy irritated crap.
I spend quite a bit of time thinking about things that make me angry, irritated and sad.
Today it is raining and it brought to mind the time that this poet lady was visiting our school and she played horribly depressing music for us as teenagers and was surprised that all of our poetry was horribly depressing. As if teenagers aren't already prone to emotional crap.
I am starting to receive my first big wave of rejection letters from agents. Now, this is anticipated. In fact, it is my belief that an unpublished author of a romance novel is highly UNLIKELY to be agented because there are several opportunities to publish without an agent. Which was my initial thought anyway. But perhaps jumping on the whole rejection train while I am already kinda down was not the best plan.
Here is my new plan: wait to hear back from the two publishers that I sent to. The agents I'm waiting to hear back from are sort of the very very very longshot. So far sent out to 11 agents. Heard back from four.
And if publishers reject my first book, I can send them a copy of the next book. Persistence. Idiocy. Madness.
Grateful Crap: new stuff growing, I guess. Even though it will make me sneeze and cough.
date with Spouse
Quaker, teacher, parent,