No Go. The book is rejected by DAW. I have no idea if it even made it up the ladder, or if it was unsatisfactory from the bottom of the Organization up.
I had a funny feeling when I arrived at the Post Office today. Sure enough, when I reached into the PO Box, there was a yellow card telling me my package had returned. Those of us scoffing at the extra intuition of mankind, apriori knowledge unaccounted for by Science might appreciate this, though naturally enough will expect the presence of unconscious but recorded cues as the explanation. (the timing was right and there were two yellow cards; I knew beforehand only one package was coming. Deduction)
15 years ago, when I was being published, I used to get rejection slips all the time. That's a very important part of the Industry. It's a machine with rules, and you accept them as the reality of the process. Having said this objectively and dryly, I'll now break form and give you the meat of it.
It hurts like hell. There is no point in not. When I found HI forum Bill Martino gave me a place to write and have friends. You've put up with me for years.
I made the decision to try again while I was here, on these pages of the screen in front of us. This was no small endeavor. This is not off the cuff or not being able to buy the lawnmower I really wanted, the one with 5 horse power instead of 2.5 hp. Why would I bother with that? This forum is real and the friends real. I told Bill I'd try. I said I wanted to be able to look the Angels in the eyes. Everyone has a stone to roll, and this was mine. I'm not going back to who I was beforehand, even if I could. That person was anxious and depressed. He was cynical and wise. He did not have the guts I have today. Thank you all for rooting for me.
Everything was maddenly slow. The baby couldn't pull the letters from the box, and I had to bite my tongue and wait. Finally, when he gave up, I showed him how to curl the envelopes together in a bundle so one could slip them through the small space. It's cold and snowing, and it takes time to load and unload kids with all their equipment. You pick the Kindergartner up at lunchtime and he's hungry the moment he hits the seat. When you get to the kitchen a wailing goes up for Juice, juice, juice, let the juice flow.
Lunch is in the oven and you'd better stick something in their mouths now or face revolution. How much, right here, get a cup, not too much, I don't like my cheese, the video to the TV stopped, who had the wooden truck first, God durned diaper gonna burst....
I taped a wooden box to the flat bed of another truck so they could both haul building blocks around.
I'm going to walk downstairs and turn Mickey off. He's talking to himself down there, in the basement alive playing for an audience that isn't there- like my book.
'Tell me not in mournful numbers Life is but an empty dream,
for the Soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not, what they seem.
Life is real, Life is earnest, and the grave is not its goal
Dust to dust, ashes to ash, was not spoken of the Soul."
I think that's Longfellow; Rusty would know from memory, and Linton probably already has it looked up.
Can you imagine if God left me down here all alone, and the only writing I do is HI forum? I guess that's better than a slap in the face or a slug from a .44
A forumite sent me a knife, and I'm betting that's what's in the other box. I'll leave his name out in case this wonderful gesture on his part he'd prefer quiet. He wanted a knife to be used, and not just sit, so he sent it to me. One of my son's will get it on that day when I'm gone. It's a good 'un. I never had one before- the Sarge knife. The funny thing is, this forumite thinks I'm 'mad', especially after I talked to him for an hour on the phone. Well, documented electronic evidence is hard to ignore, and acceptable in a Court of Law, so he may have me there.
But thanks. Do you see how it goes now? What it is we've been hacking away at forever in the Cantina, what Bill was putting forth? I'll always remember this knife as special, it came on that day, a good thing part of the overall whole, the Great Mystery we face every day and know as real, aggravating, wonderful, boring and sad. It's what we got to work with.
munk
I had a funny feeling when I arrived at the Post Office today. Sure enough, when I reached into the PO Box, there was a yellow card telling me my package had returned. Those of us scoffing at the extra intuition of mankind, apriori knowledge unaccounted for by Science might appreciate this, though naturally enough will expect the presence of unconscious but recorded cues as the explanation. (the timing was right and there were two yellow cards; I knew beforehand only one package was coming. Deduction)
15 years ago, when I was being published, I used to get rejection slips all the time. That's a very important part of the Industry. It's a machine with rules, and you accept them as the reality of the process. Having said this objectively and dryly, I'll now break form and give you the meat of it.
It hurts like hell. There is no point in not. When I found HI forum Bill Martino gave me a place to write and have friends. You've put up with me for years.
I made the decision to try again while I was here, on these pages of the screen in front of us. This was no small endeavor. This is not off the cuff or not being able to buy the lawnmower I really wanted, the one with 5 horse power instead of 2.5 hp. Why would I bother with that? This forum is real and the friends real. I told Bill I'd try. I said I wanted to be able to look the Angels in the eyes. Everyone has a stone to roll, and this was mine. I'm not going back to who I was beforehand, even if I could. That person was anxious and depressed. He was cynical and wise. He did not have the guts I have today. Thank you all for rooting for me.
Everything was maddenly slow. The baby couldn't pull the letters from the box, and I had to bite my tongue and wait. Finally, when he gave up, I showed him how to curl the envelopes together in a bundle so one could slip them through the small space. It's cold and snowing, and it takes time to load and unload kids with all their equipment. You pick the Kindergartner up at lunchtime and he's hungry the moment he hits the seat. When you get to the kitchen a wailing goes up for Juice, juice, juice, let the juice flow.
Lunch is in the oven and you'd better stick something in their mouths now or face revolution. How much, right here, get a cup, not too much, I don't like my cheese, the video to the TV stopped, who had the wooden truck first, God durned diaper gonna burst....
I taped a wooden box to the flat bed of another truck so they could both haul building blocks around.
I'm going to walk downstairs and turn Mickey off. He's talking to himself down there, in the basement alive playing for an audience that isn't there- like my book.
'Tell me not in mournful numbers Life is but an empty dream,
for the Soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not, what they seem.
Life is real, Life is earnest, and the grave is not its goal
Dust to dust, ashes to ash, was not spoken of the Soul."
I think that's Longfellow; Rusty would know from memory, and Linton probably already has it looked up.
Can you imagine if God left me down here all alone, and the only writing I do is HI forum? I guess that's better than a slap in the face or a slug from a .44
A forumite sent me a knife, and I'm betting that's what's in the other box. I'll leave his name out in case this wonderful gesture on his part he'd prefer quiet. He wanted a knife to be used, and not just sit, so he sent it to me. One of my son's will get it on that day when I'm gone. It's a good 'un. I never had one before- the Sarge knife. The funny thing is, this forumite thinks I'm 'mad', especially after I talked to him for an hour on the phone. Well, documented electronic evidence is hard to ignore, and acceptable in a Court of Law, so he may have me there.
But thanks. Do you see how it goes now? What it is we've been hacking away at forever in the Cantina, what Bill was putting forth? I'll always remember this knife as special, it came on that day, a good thing part of the overall whole, the Great Mystery we face every day and know as real, aggravating, wonderful, boring and sad. It's what we got to work with.
munk
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