As some of you may have noticed, I am a writer of self-admitted minimal success and enormous failures, but I still write. I think psychologists call that "self-injurious behavior." So be it.
Today's "Writing Wednesdays" blog is about a weird kind of retribution for all the rejections I've suffered from agents. When I research a literary agency, I review what each agent is interested in before deciding whether or not I should contact them. I wouldn't send a murder mystery to an agent who only handles historical non-fiction, for example. This is a standard process.
Now, I do the rejections, dumping agents that aren't appropriate for my work. "Take that!" I shout at the computer screen when I reject an agent. "How do you like that, you arrogant, elitist, literary snob!" Of course, they don't know I've rejected them; whereas, when they reject me I get it in writing or, even worse, silence.
This approach is recent, and I know it may fall short just a tad from reality. But therapy can take on many faces. I find comfort in it, but I suspect it is only temporary. Stay tuned for next week's "Writing Wednesdays" blog.