I have just taken myself for a brisk walk across the beach to try to put my uppy-downy kind of day into perspective.
It started on the up...I had a rejection letter. Oh no, I hear you sympathise, but this was not any kind of rejection letter, no, no, this was one from Myslexia- magazine for women who write (oops, yes I am a ladee). What a joy, I am almost thinking of sending another crappy offering just so I can get another one! Not only did they give me an indepth reason for being rejected (not even sure they were comfortable with the word) but they apologised and asked twice if I would consider trying again. There was none of the rude, terse replies you usually get from 'those on high', and there have been a couple!! This was a pleasant rejection if there can be such a thing, and I would like to thank Myslexia for taking the time to try to make a struggling writer feel not quite so ejected from writers paradise.
Work dragged me down again, it's not where I want to be, especially when I've just got one chapter left. Like the last sip of a fine wine, I've been putting off the grand finale, but about lunch time I decided that tonight is the night and unfortunately time slowed down and went into reverse from there on. Got home in a fest (Cornish word for bad grump) only to find that my ego had been plumped and fluffed by dear Pundy and Monsieur Shameless. Up I come again.
Now all that is left is to down a Southern Comfort (post beach drink) and settle down to those final words - not to worry though, the next one is already in the pipeline and I can't wait.