Path to Publication or Acceptance & Depression

TikTok is either trying to troll or humble me. The algorithm keeps feeding me videos of young ladies in their early twenties doing GRWM clips for class. They all start with an immaculate skincare routine before doing a full face of makeup then hair and cute outfit. Every lady looks so put together and fab. In my heart, I am one of these ladies.

I pretend to be put together before reality crashes in and reminds me I was showing up to class in men’s basketball shorts and a tank top or oversized hoodies and sweatpants that needed the waistband to be rolled two or three times so I wouldn’t trip. 

While I have evolved from men’s basketball shorts and sweatpants, it would take a miracle to get me to their level, haha. And that’s okayyy, lol. I know I can’t be the only one. 

Speaking of accepting reality. Remember when I said, brb, gonna chase my dreams? Well, it took longer than expected (that pandemic whooped my ass) but the manuscript is “finished.” I’ve been pitching it to literary agents since the beginning of January. My goal is one a week. All but two have sent me rejection emails so far.

The thanks but no thanks emails haven’t dampened my mood. It feels exciting to have made it to this part of the process after dragging my feet and self-sabotaging the editing stage for so long. All the nos just make me feel “official.” Hahaha.

This will probably wear off as time passes and the not for me but good luck notes stack up. Last week I pitched to Meg Thompson. She edited Men Have Called Her Crazy. Every hot-button-item topic was well fleshed out. There was personality emphasized in the writing. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. My gut simply shouted out, her! She would be excellent for Don’t Forget to Tip Your Waitress.

I took an extra week to complete her submission form. A rejection from her will probably sting. But who knows, right?

One of her asks was for a website. So here I am, resurrecting RamblinRandol with a new and clearer purpose. Documenting (because I don’t wanna spill the beans on Instagram… yet) this (what I expect to be winding) path to publication or depression that leads to acceptance because maybe this idea I’ve had for the past ten years just isn’t in the cards.

Hoping to update you every Monday. We’ll see. I hate rules. Even ones proposed by me.

Byeeeee