But lo! I’m not taking this lying down. I wallowed all weekend, and that’s as self-indulgent as it’ll get. In five years time, and as a direct consequence of the last six months, I’ll be a better writer and a wiser human being. Every writer has his or her war stories about rejections and setbacks, and at the end of the day, guv, what’s life but stories for the grandkids?
Besides, it’s only a book. As I said earlier today, I could be sitting in Gaza City right now, or southern Israel, with a baby in a cot and half-expecting a rocket through the window.
If the worst thing that happens me in 2009 is a book rejection, it’ll have been a tolerable year. Meanwhile, anyone who needs a laugh should check out the classic Brian-Stewie walkie-talkie riff. Roll it there, Collette, over …
UPDATE: My brother-in-law arrived last night, with the Tom and Jerry-style photograph below (no photo-shopping involved, honest), which was taken by his lovely wife, my equally lovely sister, and which just about captured the mood perfectly. I calls it ‘No Guts, No Glory’. Peace, out.