Once again I am gathering up my submission materials to send out in my long and trying quest to get my novel published. At this point I am suppressing the urge to grab agents/publishers by the collar and threaten their physical well being if they reject me again. (I have their mailing addresses. I'm just saying, the option is there.) If that doesn't work I could then fall into a heap on the floor and throw the mother of all temper tantrums. I've watched my kids do it for four years; I could imitate it pretty darn convincingly. However better judgement tells me that may not be the impression I want to make. If I can get published without anyone filing for a restraining order I will consider that a major win for me.
Yet hope springs eternal and I am still hopeful for a favorable outcome. Maybe this round won't lead to publication, but it could lead to further feedback to improve upon my manuscript and that too is a wonderful thing. I think back to my first draft of THE CONDUIT; it was a very different story then. Time, editing and feedback are polishing it up to the sparkling jewel I knew it could be. When it shines enough on its own the right person will read it and doors will open. Until then I have to keep pushing on.
I will admit it's difficult because there is no set blue print for how long this journey will be. Stephanie Meyer sent out less than twenty query letters before being scooped up by Writer's House Literary Agency. Stephen King on the other hand received so many rejections for Carrie that he threw the manuscript away! It was his wife that pulled it out of the garbage and continued to submit it for him. But neither of those are Stacey Rourke's publication story. Hers is yet to be determined. I've already invested too much not to at least wait it out and see how it ends.
So I shall bite the bullet and send my materials out again. And don't worry, if I start to get the gnawing desire to physically persuade someone to come around to my way of thinking I'll put myself in timeout.