I got a rejection letter in the mail last week. The funny thing is, I was actually happy to see it. It has been a long time since I got a rejection letter, since my agent has handled submissions for novels for eight years. This was a rejection for a short story, but it came in a timely manner, only 28 days from when I sent the story off, and it was not a form letter, but signed by the actual, official editor of the magazine with a request for another story if I had one.

I know now, as I did not understand eight years ago, that ninety-nine percent of the submissions are returned with form letter rejections and that any nice comments are very rare. So, yeah, the story didn't sell. It's called "Blonde Brain For Rent, Cheap," and it's an attempt to be humorous, which I have been working at including in my writing. I'm not exactly Mrs. Saturday Night Live in real life, but I have a few humorous moments, which I don't know if readers of my rather dark books understand. Working on that.