Autumn and Work

Song on random music selection: Never Let Go, by Omar. I think the album is Mystic Visions, and it is sweetly melancholy. It's the first song that came up when I hit my 5G or whatever of music to play. It's a new download from emusic so is not familiar. It's still dark here, though I know people are up and getting ready for work.

The first thing I did this morning was email some old friends at the day job. We have not kept in touch. But in the corporation I worked at, the floors of the law dept. would have a great decorating competition for Halloween, and a great feast. I don't know if they went all out this year like they did last year, but WALLS were covered.

It's been a year since the day job ended. I have only finished two books, one large, one massive and should finish another by the end of the month. It still doesn't feel enough. I can't say that I've gotten a good home/work schedule set up yet. It would be better if I got up and wrote every morning before I did anything else (except feed the cats, of course). I DO miss the company, though I was an introvert in the extreme there.

I was cleaning my office last night (which invariably looks like a bomb went off in it), and ran across a few rejection letters. Two by publishers for HeartMate, one a small press and one the only publisher who was issuing books like mine at the time. It hurt badly when I received it. I stopped writing for a while. Then I put HeartMate away and decided to make Heart Thief a fantasy instead of a romance....stop me when you know you've heard this story.

[Music, another beautiful but melancholy piece -- Phil Coulter's Toward the Mist]
Now, I don't like the word "smirk." The connotation can be ambiguous to some. To me, it's always negative, so I rarely use it with hero/heroine (Cats excepted), that's my publishing advice for the day. But I think when I saw the rejection letters I smirked. Have I told you of the meeting with the editor who rejected me? When I was up for the double RITAs?

The agent rejection I just shook my head at. Betrothal and Blackmail didn't elicit the great enthusiasm she needed to really market a work from an unpublished author (I think the first part of that paraphrase is correct). This got a shrug. I am VERY happy with my agent, and this one might still not know my name, and if she does, I'm sure she doesn't recall that she rejected me, or care.

[Music, atonal, irritating piece by Alex de Grassi called Endless Pain]
And I found the pen, logo wearing off, from the first National RWA conference I ever attended, eleven years ago. Naturally, I thought [NOT TO MYSELF, DON'T ***USE*** THOSE WORDS, USUALLY PEOPLE ONLY THINK TO THEMSELVES] "what would I have said if someone told me I'd be published in 2007?" and the answer was a little depressing

[Music, Deuter's Silent Wave, what is it with quiet melancholy this morning? Maybe I need to add more flamenco to my collection. Where is David Arkenstone and upbeat when you need him?]

I'd have thought "What took me so long?"

I can see the sky becoming light over the roof of the house next door, tree branches stark against light gray. Neither of my neighbors have turned on the dining room light, though C. has probably already left for the day. I think I might make breakfast and I think it might be ham and an egg and an English muffin this morning, I need to consume the slice of ham before I leave, and that melancholy music is just ending. [Another minor key, repetitious piece, Harold Budd's Pearl]. Nice to know I can Let Go and walk away.

May you be content with your day.
Robin