The partial manuscript had enough appeal to Kathleen Anderson that she asked for the full.
That's the sort of news anyone would like to hear during the submission process. There's something in the opening chapters that's working, drawing a reader in.
Today's mail brought the bad news. It was a form rejection.
No guidance, no editorial suggestions, just a form letter without any salutation.
For the past three months, there was hope that this might be the breakthrough. Today, the hope is gone.
At the moment, I feel like giving it up completely. I've started to query a new manuscript but there isn't much interest in it at all. The stories that I like to write don't seem to resonate with the literary agents who want historical fiction, but not the parts of history that interest me.
Cocktail hour will start early today and continue through the holiday weekend. Maybe by Tuesday I'll feel differently. Maybe on Tuesday morning, I'll roll out of bed before dawn to write, to put down on the paper the story that's in my head.
And if that happens, I'll do it with a tremendous hangover.