Well, the short story I wrote as a kind of pilot for Montague in the Leviathan was rejected by a literary journal. It was one of those rejections that tried to make it sound as positive as possible, leading off with "we loved it!" and finishing with "but it wasn't really right for us." Which meant they didn't love it. Who do they think they're kidding?
So I once again have the rejection blues. I'm really tired of being a miserable, pathetic failure. What's the point? They say to have goals and to have steps to reach them, and you'll do it! But realistically, everyone can't succeed at everything. Some of us really are just miserable, pathetic failures.
And other people get to succeed.
