Maggie made a good point in a previous post.
It really stings when you screw up your courage and send off a manuscript to someone whom you respect, someone you'd like to work with (editor or agent). Then the rejection comes in and you wonder, "Why the hell did I bother with this?"
It doesn't bother me that much any more. I'm beginning to think that it doesn't matter. I think I've found my niche.
Have you thought about your niche? If you're published, do you feel comfortable in your place? And if you're not, have you thought about where your niche will be (and it can't be 'The New York Times best seller list').
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I'm going for it, because at the moment, I'm writing in a popular genre. I've worked to bring my writing up from sensual to erotic, because it increases my scope, and honestly, because it's fun.
That's the thing. If you don't enjoy doing it, don't do it, because there is no guarantee of publication, so if you don't get it published, at least you haven't wasted your time.
I'm prepared to see where this takes me. I'm not counting on anything, but neither am I limiting my objectives.
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