Ever had one of those? A book you wrote, one that even gets some accolades and attention from editors, but you just don't much care what happens to it?
CODE NAME: WILLOW was that book for me. I spent the better part of two years on that book (and it actually spanned more years than that, since it sat languishing, about 1/3 written, for several years). I put in a lot of blood, sweat, tears, cursing and hair-pulling on the book just to get it finished and revised to the point that my critique partner didn't look at me in disgust.
And yet, it won a contest, finaled in several others, and was eventually requested by two different editors.
Today, after a requested revision, a Silhouette editor gave CODE NAME: WILLOW its walking papers. And while I'm naturally bummed at yet another rejection, I can't seem to gin up much emotional pain at the rejection. It helps that the editor is already looking at another of my projects, and that she made it clear in the letter that she'd like me to query her with future projects, all good news. But even so, rejections usually hurt a lot more than this one seems to be.
Maybe it's because by the time I sent it out, I pretty much hated the story and the characters. Seriously, I strongly considered not submitting it anywhere, but I told myself that since I'd worked so long and hard on it, I'd never feel that it was complete if I didn't try to sell it. But now that it's over, I'm just not that upset about it. It's almost a relief.
Is that weird?