Okay, the rejection letter from the publishing company on Christmas Eve so long ago did have a profound effect upon me. I have been rejected before, but never strung along for over a year and told I was the most likely winner and then had the cord slashed the day before Christmas. Thank goodness I had the wonderful gift of my family around me to make the moment less important than it has become.
I think until now I have denied what that rejection meant. I continued to write, just not my stories from my own imagination. I took classes to improve. I joined writers groups who have helped me see my failings, but when I most often would have sat at my computer and joined my characters for a cup of tea or a glass of wine, I have instead played mindless video games. Those games seemed to take me away from the pain of not being enough, a constant and ever playing song in my head for my entire life.
What I have been able to do is write about my experiences at Haywood Street Congregation. Maybe that was more important than my tales anyway, but not finishing the tasks of taking the books to their completion has left me feeling even more inadequate. So today, I will reembark on putting my thoughts and imaginings to paper. We'll see if Deep Well Books is real or not.
