Today is my birthday! Or tomorrow depending when you read this thing. The 10th, that’s the day I was born. Just a few short years ago and my parents were heard to exclaim: “Oh well, back to the drawing board!”
They wanted a boy. Did you know my middle name is Darnit?
LAST year, my birthday post was titled Happy Dang Birthday and I wrote this:
I got my THIRD REJECTION today.
Thank you for your query. Dan Lazar asked me to reply after he evaluated your submission.
We’re afraid your project does not seem right for our list, but thank you for thinking of Dan, and best of luck in your search for representation.
Assistant to Dan Lazar
Yeah, the ASSISTANT. So to recap my journey with literary agents:
Agent 1 says she likes my chapter and I should sent out queries.
Agent 2 says she was considering it for a time, but opted to pass.
Agent 3 says she has to feel strongly about a project, and she so does NOT.
Agent 4 has ASSISTANT give me the kiss off.
I fully expect Agent 5 to show up with a tire iron and take out my kneecaps.
Here I sit on my BIRTHDAY, old and rejected. I can’t think of a THING that would make me feel better. Except for presents. Lots and lots of presents.
I’ll be home all day.
THIS year’s birthday finds me with an AGENT. At least I think so. I sent off the contract and have yet to hear from her, but I’m sure that’s typical. Right? A year ago I was old and rejected, and NOW, I’m just old. Er.
Oh, well. Published authors can afford botox.
Or go crazy and eat themselves into oblivion. Whichever.
¡Feliz cumpleaños a mí!