The Pledge: Day 11, or When Do the Folks from Guinness Get Here?

Well, my productivity continues, though morale is not at what you'd call an all-time high. I swear, I can hear the TV calling to me at night like the ghost of a dead lover.

"Gaaaaaabe... Gaaaaaaabe... Where are you, Gaaaaaaaabe? Don't you love me anymore, Gaaaaaaaabe?"

I'll tell you, when you've been lying awake in bed for three hours, that gets annoying.

But like I said, productivity is up. As I've stated elsewhere (Twitter, Facebook) I think I set a world record for publishing rejection this weekend. I submitted a story (American Machine) to Ideomancer on Saturday morning, thinking that, with the story's mix of ideas and character (something the submission page of the magazine's website said was one of the main things they were looking for), it would be a good fit with them. Sunday night, after returning home from my nephew's birthday party, I found my rejection letter in my inbox. After less than 48 hours.

"Strong characters and the setting has potential," wrote the fiction editor, "but I didn't feel there was enough plot here for a 2000+-word story."

You know, I got depressed for weeks after my first rejection, and though this is only my second, I can feel my skin getting thicker. More than that, though, I think it helped that the editor explained her reasons for rejecting the story. That first rejection was just a form letter. It could very well have been the not knowing that drove me so crazy afterwards. This rejection, at least I know. She's a plot person. I can understand that.

And it didn't hurt that she said I wrote strong characters. I knew it already, but a little outside confirmation never hurts.

So that's where I'm at. I know you were dying to know.