Personal Growth with Corinne Edwards

I got my first rejection from a publisher today.

I was very proud.

Because in order to be rejected,
someone had read my work.

A professional.

And, if someone had read my work,
I must now be a writer.

One thing confused me.

I had smeared my life guts on those pages.
The ink was blood.

And the letter I received today -
said they were not accepting fiction
at this time.