Jay E. Tria

Huh. Ouch. And it came pretty promptly too. In like two days after I sent the email. Okay, I have to get used to this. It’s always a bumpy, hole-infested, long and winding rugged road to get to the thing you want most. It’s fine. It’s okaaay. But still. Ouch.

Query letters, synopses, sample chapters, exclusive submissions–Ms Meyer was right. It gets so intimidating I am tempted to just stop right here. But everything exciting comes with a shot of fear. As do everything important to you, and all things worth getting. I am going to give it a try, even if I may feel licks of depression for every rejection I get. And I think, I think, I may be able to get what I want. Sooner or later, and maybe the timing doesn’t even matter. Life starts at 23 right? And then again at 40? Thanks, Tin, for…

This should in the calendar, if coffee prices aren’t so ridiculously steep. I meant to not spend a dime until the next payday, but there it was last night, 250 bucks flying off a starving wallet to pay for a green tea frappe (which is yum, no matter what they say) and a mallow cake (which didn’t deserve it’s expensiveness, I’m sorry). There was something to be said about gossip and emo mumblings and never ending heartache (theirs, and yeah I guess, only a teeny bit of mine) and headache talks, though. Specially if it’s with people you only discuss…