At around 12:20am, I was moseying around online (since late at night is the only time I have to myself these days - or at least it seems like it) and checking various blogs. I saw a new post over at BookEnds, LLC and decided to read it.
It's a great post. It's all about agents (or at least in this case, Jessica Faust) being all yippy-skippy about when calling an author for representation and/or about a book deal with a publisher. The pause when the author might scream with amazement or joy. Or do the "telephone happy dance" (my favorite part of that post). Even better, she showed the agent's excitement on the other end. Actually waiting for the author to phone back with (hopefully) a yes. Then she wants to scream and do the telephone happy dance. It was a really nice look into an agent's side of things and made a lot of people smile and laugh, myself included.
I even left a comment about how one day I hoped to have an agent as excited about me as she gets about her clients.
And then I thought about it a little.
And then I got a little bummed out.
And then I just burst into tears.
I sat here in front of my computer, head in my hands, and cried. Because I don't have an agent that's excited about me or my work. Because I'm tired. Just tired. Normally I'm the one who tosses aside rejection letters and tries again. Because I know rejection is just a part of the writing life. And I'm always saying, "I don't care if I'm 90 years old - I'm getting published!"
But I got that dark, bottomless pit feeling inside me at that very moment. No one wants me. No one loves my writing. And the worst of it is, I haven't even been waiting as long as some people. I know I haven't. But I've been working my fingers to the bone, money is frighteningly tight around here, and I've barely had any time to write for myself for the past several months.
And I'm tired.
Still, it's good to get that out once and a while. I cried and sniffled for a good twenty minutes or so. I'm sure once I hit the hay and get a good rest (if possible - I never did like my mattress), I'll wake up refreshed and ready to go again and be able to look at the future with hope and eagerness.
I think I'd better do that.