I said I would document this whole process, the good and the bad, so I need to keep my word: I got my first rejection from a literary agent today.
Not gunna lie: It stings. It feels like pouring hydrogen peroxide on a wound you didn't know you had.
The thing about hydrogen peroxide, I guess, is though it stings, it's cleaning.
Keeping the infection out.
Of course, the doubt monsters are trying to set up shop in my mind. And I'm trying to remind them that they don't get to be permanent residents.
It's been a couple of hours since I read the email. The "punch in the gut" feeling is fading. The sun is shining outside. Clocks spring ahead this weekend because of daylight saving time. So I'll move forward, too, as I add another experience to 2016: I have experienced rejection from a literary agent.
Alright. On to the next.