All right, so it’s happened. I’ve hit that important milestone, and received the first ever rejection letter of my writing career, this one for a short work I put forward for an anthology a couple of months back. Moreover, in the hours since the publisher’s email arrived in my inbox, I’ve reached a better understanding as to the challenges associated with submitting to collections.
I don’t normally approach the end of the year with a sense of relief. In the case of 2013, however, I was heartily glad to see the back of it.
The second half of last year was especially tough, what with my granddad’s death, followed almost immediately by me being diagnosed with mild depression. Neither was exactly a shock. My granddad was told he had lung cancer the previous year, and we all knew he wasn’t going to get better. It was just a matter of time. As for the depression, it runs in the family, with my granddad, dad, and brother all having been diagnosed before me. All the same, occurring so close together, the two events knocked me back significantly.