I had a dream last night that an agent I queried who follows me sent me a message via twitter (a sentence that if read to child-me would have made me ask 1.) what is this peculiar language of the future? and 2.) Followers? Oh crap, do I join a cult?). “This warrants a visit to my office!” the tweet in my dream said, and I wrote her back, “why, am I in trouble?” with an emoticon “wink.” And she winked back me and we began a beautiful professional relationship, literary agent and writer walking off contract-in-contract, er, hand-in-hand…
I woke up with a feeling, a premonition, that something was going to happen for me if not today, then soon.
I never dreamed it would be a rejection.
“Dammit!” I said when the sincerely gracious email came in this morning. The better luck next time. I played my little game of Tetris updating my excel query-tracking sheet, move this one from maybe, to no, and that was it. There was a time when I would’ve been crushed–for at least seven minutes. I would’ve pouted a little. Maybe been angry. Petty. Bratty. Felt something. But today I said, okay. I tossed the rejection off with a shrug.
In the car later I had the radio on. How you never realize what you have until it’s missing? I miss you, Sirius radio, sorely.
Every song on the radio sounds like this “eeeeeee!” and is sung by Pink.
Or someone who sounds like Pink.
There must be a lot of people out there who sound like Pink.
That must be the trend today, sound like Pink.
I flipped to Hot 97 (hand me my 14k gold Amy name-plate, please!). It took me a few minutes to realize that the noise I heard was not something wrong with the car but actual music.
I turned the radio off and we drove in silence, alone with you and my thoughts.
Maybe this feeling I have about 2013 is the feeling of growing thick skin. The feeling of taking knocks and getting back up. The feeling of experience. The feelings that come with getting old.