Only 97 short story submissions made in the past eighteen months. I have to send out three more to get to an even hundred before the end of this month.
How many rejections? Up to a few hours ago, there were 75. Nice, round figure. That left 22 open, waiting for the word.
And then came an acceptance. Someone actually wants to publish something that I wrote. In an edited, reviewed publication. A real live credential, just for me. No money in it, but it's the credit that matters. The copies of the journal will be nice, but recognition is what we're after.
That leaves 18 open submissions. One acceptance. The rest were withdrawn.
What a grand feeling.