Defeated…?

Just got word that a story of mine was rejected. I’ll get over it; I always do. Rejection is part of a writer’s universe. Still, sometimes the Screaming Meemies jump out of their subconscious closet and shout in my ear: “What makes you think you’re any good? Do you have anything to say, really? Or have you wasted your life telling stories that no one wants to hear?”

Ah, well. Nothing to be done, I suppose, except to stuff the Meemies back into the closet and get to work. My book isn’t going to write itself, after all.

And maybe I’ll eat a pint of ice cream. Right out of the container, with a plastic spoon.

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