I hammered out about 1,200 words on a new short story last night, and it felt soooooo good to stretch my writing muscle. On Saturday, when I was struggling with my resident virus, I didn't think I'd want to write another word. Again. Ever.
Glad that's over.
So far I've had three rejections this "year" and one itty-bitty acceptance to Drabblecast for a 100-worder. I used to collect the rejection letters in a Hotmail folder, but lately I've been deleting them. Unless, that is, the rejection holds some constructive criticism. Otherwise *click* (flush).
It's hard to remember how those early rejection letters used to sting. My skin (or my skull) must be much thicker now.