I vote that the idea that Jack is the sort of man who would buy books in a far-off place makes him look all the nummier. I love that scene! Lucky Anna, oh my.

I'm probably feeling far too flattered for my own good, but I kinda need it this week. I've been making a concerted effort to send out freelance queries, especially to custom publishers (they do magazines and other content for companies who don't do it in house--they hire lots of freelancers and pay well), I've applied to teach a class at my local community college, etc. And so far it's not that I've been rejected, it's just that I might as well be dropping my info into a black hole. And IME, with emailed queries/applications, no news is bad news. Generally either you hear back right away, or you'll get a "sorry, not interested" in six weeks or six months. So it's been kinda discouraging.

Okay, so this drabble actually has very little or nothing to do with "Under the Bed" except, well, containing the phrase. It's also not really fiction, which pretty much also breaks the rules of the challenge. It's also short. I don't care.

***
I've never been scared of snakes, or spiders, or monsters under the bed. I like the dark, and clowns are funny, and thunderstorms make me smile. The normal fears of a thousand men, a thousand women, a thousand children - they've never touched my secret dark places.

I'm only afraid of one thing, and it's not serial killers, or ghosts, or great white sharks.

Hi, my name is David, and I have phone fear.
***

P.S. I want deb back. If you're reading this, deb, please come back. Please?

So I'm still waiting to hear back from one of the contests I entered this summer. Today I get an email from the contest coordinator that makes it clear that results have been returned. I've heard nothing whatsoever. I know my entry was received in the first place, because the entry fee check cleared, but beyond that nada, zilch, zero. I figure there are three possibilities here:

1. My results and feedback are lost in the mail. (DAMN you, USPS!)

2. Mail is just inexplicably slow to Seattle for some reason. (Darn you to heck, USPS!)

3. I'm a finalist. (Well, you could've TOLD me.)

I'm betting on #1. It's just been that kind of week.

I'm betting on #1. It's just been that kind of week.

Susan, have I told you lately that you rooooooock? Cause ya do.

Thanks, P-C. I just wish assorted magazine editors and other freelancing gatekeepers thought so, and would pay me enough to keep me happily self-employed until such time as I've finished both my manuscripts. Then I need an editor to decide that I rock to the tune of a five figure advance and a publicity push.

Today's mail finally arrives. (And may I just say how annoying it is as a writer to have a mailman who rarely shows up before 4:00, and sometimes, particularly Mondays or after a holiday, is as late as 5:30?) I spot two Tyvek envelopes of the type I use for submissions and the return thereof. One of them has to be my contest entry coming back, right? Wrong. The return addresses are the two agencies where I had active submissions. Here's what they say:

Agency A:

Dear Author:

Many thanks for sending me part of your manuscript. While I found the material very interesting, I am going to pass. Although it wasn't right for me, I wish you the very best of luck in placing this elsewhere.

Form letter, methinks, though perhaps they have a different, more discouraging version for submissions without a single instance of correct grammar submitted in crayon on yellow legal paper.

Agency B:

Dear Susan:

Thank you for sending the partial of your manuscript entitled LUCY AND MR. WRIGHT.

Unfortunately, I am going to have to decline asking to see more of this manuscript. As you know, the genre of women's fiction is very competitive these days. Historical romance, in particular, is an especially crowded and difficult market. While I liked many elements of this project, ultimately, I just was not enthusiastic about it to pursue taking it on for representation.

Please keep in mind that this is a very subjective business, and others might feel differently. My client list has become quite full, so I'm being very particular when reviewing submissions. I am accepting new projects for representation on a very selective basis at this time. Therefore, I encourage you to continue submitting LUCY AND MR. WRIGHT elsewhere.

Thanks for thinking of our agency. I wish you the best with LUCY AND MR. WRIGHT and your future writing career.

OK. Granted, I'm doing such a massive rework on Lucy right now that it's just as well not to have it as an active submission. But still, it's hella discouraging, especially combined with the fact my big freelancing push of the past two weeks has so far availed me exactly nothing. Such business as I've had has all been resume work from people who already know about me (i.e. Buffistas and their nearest and dearest). Which is wonderful, and I enjoy the work, but this board would have to be at least 10 times bigger before I could make a living just from doing y'all's resumes.

Someone please give me one good reason I should keep doing this and not just keep Jack and Anna for my own personal fantasy and start sending out resumes Monday for another dreary bureaucratic job to pay the bills.

Because you're further along in the process than I so if you give up, I have to suck on a tailpipe? Ok, that might be a little All About Me.

Just got an email back from the contest coordinator. My entry is somewhere on the way back to me--the historicals were mailed "sometime last week".

Could this week BE any more discouraging?

Probably not without projectile vomiting, Susan, sorry.