I've been in a funk for the past few days. You know, that foggy swamp writers descend into when the 32nd rejection rolls in.....When even though you believe in yourself and your book, it doesn't feel like enough anymore unless an agent or a publisher believes, too. When your well meaning husband tries to be supportive and tells you not to give up because you truly are talented...and you bite his head off, because what does he know about the cutthroat publishing world? Please tell me some of you have experienced this feeling.
I've done all the right things to end my funk; drank several rounds of Long Island Sunsets (yummy, but didn't work), went to the gym (ultimately good for me, but didn't work), lunched with a friend (also yummy and fun, but kind of defeated my trip to the gym), watched a movie as a diversion (which made me thankful I don't fly, because a greedy air marshall tried to blow up Jodi Foster's plane) - but ultimately am still in my funk. And it feels like the only thing that could possibly propel me out of it would be a book sale, which certainly doesn't seem imminent at this point.
A few years ago a book came out called The Secret, which (as I understand, since I never brought myself to read it) says that if you put your positive thoughts/wish out there into the universe, good things will happen to you. Well, somebody needs to let me in on the secret of The Secret, because I've been a font of positivity and hopeful good wishes for a heck of a long time! If all it takes is a positive vibe, why don't I have a 3 book contract plus a movie deal in the works? I format my query letters correctly, always send a SASE with my partials and am the epitome of politeness. So what the heck does the universe want from me? Frankly, part of me thinks I deserve a prize just for cranking out 96,838 words in the first place, right? Who's with me?