Ah, bittersweet rejection. November of last year I finished writing a book. It's not a great piece of literature, not even better than average literature, but when I see what is already out there being published I truly think I have a chance. I like my fictional story of love between a black boy and a white girl, however as of now three people do not. Three rejection letters have graced my in box, and numerous others haven't even bothered with that. The one thing I like about those rejection letters, is that at least somebody besides my sister, niece, and a good friend have read a bit of my book. Rejection isn't easy to take, but as a gay man who grew up in the nineteen fifties and sixties, at least I was prepared for it. I was rejected by my grade school, by my Boy Scout Troop, and by more than a couple of straight boys back then. In each case I learned something, and found a way to keep going. So I am sure there are plenty more of those rejection letters to come. I'll just keep plunging forward, sending out two queries for every one rejection returned. In the meantime, I have to thank Mark for pulling me out of my funk over the latest rejection. Last night he made me watch a television show called Two Broke Girls. It made me hopeful. If something that horribly written can find a way to my television, I have a chance.