I’m nearing the end of my adult literary fiction rejections. One biggie came today—I expected it—and there are some story responses still trickling in, plus I think one more fellowship, and then I’m done. These things have been out for a while—since before all the good things started happening for me in April—and I just wish they would hurry up and get here already.
I feel done.
I feel unconflicted for the first time in a long time and that helps me know it’s okay to be done. Better than okay.
I’m ready for the next thing. Well, maybe. My plot summary is out of my hands and I will dive in with revisions when the time comes. Emailing with a writing friend who understands how I’m happily complacent in this “gray area” as she called it certainly helps. (Thanks, J!)
And books help to distract me. To those of you who don’t read YA novels, they are not all Gossip Girl. I just finished Living Dead Girl and I’m speechless. In awe. Struck by it. It’s a painful, searing novel to read—intense. I love intense. Not sure what to do with myself now, after devouring that last page.