Last night I dreamed I was flipping through an electronic Writers' Market, which is funny because a) I haven't used WM for years, and b) I don't own a Kindle. Maybe it was actually, best market listing on the web - sort of Ralan if it was on a booklike reader. I was flipping through guidelines searching for new novella markets, because I have this really great novella and I can't find a good home for it.

That part is true. And clearly it's taking over my subconscious.

So I'm reading the guidelines for market after market, and for some reason I'm also sitting beside the lovely pool at my ex-husband's house, which is funny since I've never been there. And I find a great market, but oops!

It pops up a preemptive rejection note, very polite but very firm. Addressed to me. Yes, in my dream I am rejected before I even submit.

Methinks the whole slush fight might be getting me down a bit. But we all fight the slush wars, don't we? Okay, maybe not Stephen King. But the rest of us still have to sub and sub and sub. It gets discouraging, stacking up the pile of rejection letters (and rejection emails - I have a whole folder of them to walk through whenever I start feeling too good about myself 'cause I'm Just That Fucking Good).

Still, I am reminded of what Harlan Ellison said. If you can be discouraged, you should be. I think about quitting all the time, particularly in my fourth straight night staying up until 2 a.m. when I have to get up at 7 a.m. with the boy. But I am never tempted to do so, because it is all I know how to do: put words together.

You either hear the music, or you don't. And if you do, how can you help but dance? - Harlan and me