Another rejection popped up in my inbox today. The exact response was, "Thank you for the query, but this does not sound like a project that is right for me."
That's it. None of the usual lessen-the-blow mumbo jumbo about another agent may feel differently, etc. etc. I'm starting to think another agent may not feel differently. Which is especially disheartening, considering this newest rejection is coming on the heels of another devastating blow: I'm losing a second pregnancy. My husband and I have been trying for two years to have a child, and after the first year we were thrilled when we conceived after a few routine tests. But at the seven week ultrasound, it was clear things were not progressing normally. The pregnancy ended at nine weeks with a D & C when it became obvious my body was not recognizing its error. From there, difficulty conceiving started again. One year, a new doctor, several tests, and a surgery later it was discovered I had both low progesterone levels and early stage endometriosis. With the endometreosis lasered away and the progesterone being supplemented, my husband and I were confident my next pregnancy was both imminent and indestructible.
But, when I got pregnant this time, it was soon clear that I was going down a familiar path. Any symptoms I had faded away very early on, and the hard little bump in my belly disappeared. Sure enough, the ultrasound of what should have been a 7+ week fetus showed nothing but an empty sac. I have to go back next week just to be certain, but I already know what to expect.
So, at this point, it's hard not to feel like a failure on all counts. Pregnancy, which is so easily achieved by many, has eluded me for two years now. There are no guarantees I will ever succeed. And just as having not one but TWO miscarriages makes me question the viability of my dream of motherhood, all these rejections are bound to make me question the viability of my other dream: getting published.
I can't let go of both dreams.
And I'm not giving up on either.
So, agents of the literary sort, be warned. You will be hearing from me. I will continue to query. And damn it, one of you better stop telling me my project isn't right for you. It's right for someone, and I will find you. And beginning tomorrow, I'm forcing myself to continue writing the story I abandoned out of sheer lack of self confidence. Neither baby nor book deal with be achieved if I give up. So if the universe is determined to mess with me by sending down a hurricane of failure, fine. I will stand right in the middle of it, and refuse to budge until I see the rainbow.