When I first began this process, when I first started to walk down to the mailbox each afternoon, 90 pound dog, Killian and 30 pound son, Price in toe, I couldn't find much reason to be hopeful. I'm sure we looked like some sort of outlandish parade, or worse yet a wake, marching to a maibox that provided no hope. If anything the mailbox provided a sense of closure, nothing more. I figured that if an agent liked my work they probably would forgo the SASE, and contact me via email. More direct, quicker, etc. That's what I would do if I were in their shoes.
But this latest pseudo acceptance has shown me that I was in error. This was the first SASE with an acceptance. So the mailbox doesn't just complete the circle and let me know that I have been rejected and by who. Instead it has become a new source of hope. The parade is a bit more lively as it makes its way to the mailbox each evening.
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