Even though I hated having to put Angelina’s Secret aside, I was super excited with the prospect of getting Our ParaNormal Lives published. After talking with my agent and exchanging several e-mails with the interested publisher, it was beginning to look as though this was truly going to happen. My dream was coming true. I was going to be a published author. All of my hard work was finally going to be rewarded. I was on top of the world—then my MS was rejected.
I. Was. Devastated.
I took a few days to have my own private little pity party. It was private because no one in their right mind wanted to be anywhere close to me. I was mad! I had been done wrong! Very wrong! Couldn’t these people see how hard I had worked? Didn’t they care how many hours I had put in? Apparently not!
I wallowed in my self-pity. I whined. I cried. I shook my fist and yelled about the injustice of it all. Surprisingly enough, none of this made me feel any better at all. I finally consoled myself with the thought that it was their loss. Another publisher, a bigger publisher, a better publisher would read my MS and LOVE it, like it deserved to be loved.
I dried my tears and returned to my new work in progress. Apparently, my mood was so bad that even my fictional characters didn’t want to be around me. I tried to write but my characters had fallen silent. This was the same characters that just a week or so before had talked so much that I couldn’t keep up.
Not getting anywhere with my current work, my mind kept going back to the other MS—the one that SHOULD have been published. I gently tucked Angelina’s Secret back into the deep crevices of my computer and I opened the document for Our ParaNormal Lives.
I hadn’t read it in over a year and it… well… to be honest… could use some work, a lot of work. I could see why it had been rejected. The concept was good… but the writing… not so much.
I contacted my agent and did the unthinkable. I asked him to stop submitting the MS and give me the chance to make it shine.