I had my first official rejection letter today. It was a short story I sent to Woman's Weekly, but I felt special because the address was hand written. I can only imagine the cramp the poor person gets, and how bored they must be to do nothing but write addresses on letters all day. I wasn't overly bothered, so my skin must be getting thicker. A few years behind a bar taking crap from drunk people must be having an effect at long last. It does mean I need to be submitting more suitable stories to magazines, but that's a step at a time.
Opportunity wise, I feel a little more confident as someone has emailed me back about an internship, so fingers crossed it will be a good opportunity. I need to shake my life up again, I'm getting too settled into an easy life. Anything will be better than living above a pub!!
Novel wise, my novel from Nanowrimo has slowed down a lot, but the ideas are still jumping out at me, I think I need to start carrying a tape recorder around so I don't forget my ideas! It's rather appealing to be saying: 'note to self' when inspired.
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