And so, once again, manuscript and synopsis in hand, I approach the querying process. With less than enthusiasm, I admit. There are only so many times a body eagerly tackles the prospect of rejection, be it vocal or expressed by resounding silence. There are worse fates in life than having your work rejected by a literary agent? For sure. Then again, I never signed up in a contest for Worst Possible Fate.

Allez. Dear So-and-So…

(of course, the advantage of frequent rejections being you learn to deal with smashing into glass windows you mistook for open sky. It’s either that or stop trying, ja?)