Thanks to the beauty of muscle relaxants and an alternating regimen of Ibuprofen and Tylenol, my arm is feeling better. (Torn rotator cuff.)

Not that much better, which is why this will be a short post, but better enough to at least make a post in between putting in work on that thing I call my real job that is being very demanding right now.

So, as we’ve discussed before, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.  Which means that story I had that made it to the second round at that place I submitted it to is still a reject.  I still love it, sad little reject that it is, and will submit it elsewhere at some point, but for now it went splat.  Aww.

And in honor of rejection I thought I’d post to one of those links I’ve had floating around that I haven’t had time to share yet:

So, without further ado, Evan Gregory (a self-described young agent) on Plan B: What’s to be expected after getting rejected.

(There’s some fancy rhyming in that title there…intentional or not?  Hmmm.)

I like the bit at the end where you can either decide that you’re a bad writer, it was a bad book (or story), or you just had bad luck.  A little quote to encourage you to read the whole thing:

“I’m here to set the record straight.  Your book stinks.  It just stinks.  It’s irredeemably bad.  There’s no way to fix it, and there’s little hope that you can ever write a better book.   No one in the publishing industry will tell you this outright, because they are afraid you’ll get angry with them.”

That is so me.

Ok, I don’t really think so, but somedays it feels like I should think so.  Good thing I have an ego the size of a small subdivision.  (It’s been growing lately to defend me from all the things in my life that fail to realize that I am the supreme commander of the universe and they need to bow down to my will.)

Anyway…