Ah yes, it has arrived. The first day of my 39th year. Or, as I like to refer to it as -- the last gasp of my thirties. I have no celebrations planned, other than to get my hair cut, which I'm actually looking forward to. I feel like a change. Although granted the biggest change will just be lobbing about four inches off the bottom and bringing it to my shoulders, but hey, wouldn't want to get too crazy.
In writing news, I'm back on track with Desire & Brimstone. I've passed the 100 page mark this week. About 75 to go and I'll be at the halfway point. Although I may have to do some reworking of the middle to cut it down a bit, or I'll be (insert mock gasp here) over my intended page count.
Also, I called Jessica Alvarez at HQN (actually she's with Silhouette, but she had requested The Outlaw Bride on behalf of HQN) to see if my manuscript arrived there since Canada Post had determined that since they couldn't find it, it must be lost (and here we shall insert an eye roll). Ms. Alvarez sent me an email back saying she had received it back in December but had unfortunately decided to pass on it and that she had sent it back to me last week. She said if I didn't receive it within a week or two to let her know and she would resend a copy of her letter. I'm hoping the letter gives some feedback into the reasons for passing on it that will hopefully allow me to fix any problems she found with it. She was really nice about it in her email and I definitely appreciated her getting back to me so quickly. I've heard horror stories of people waiting months and months and getting a no thanks, then all that time was wasted when you could have been marketing it elsewhere.
Oddly enough, the rejection didn't bother me. There was about a five second jab of 'oh crap', but then it just went pffftt and disappeared and I went on about my evening as if it were of little consequence. I have to admit, this being my first rejection since the 800 lb paperweight I sent out 12 years ago before I had a clue what I was doing, I thought it would, I dunno...hurt. I thought it would feel far more crushing than it did. Or even some deep pinch of disappointment. But no...nada. And while I'm glad for that, I keep thinking 'this can't be normal'.
I sent out a few emails to let people know I had heard the news and then set to work stripping the wallpaper border off my dining room so my father could start painting it the following day (my Christmas present - paint and my Dad's painting services for my living/dining room). And I was in a good mood. Energized even. Did anyone else have a similar reaction, or am I really one step away from the loony bin?