Breathing has been restored as my default reaction when about to answer the phone or open my e-mail account. Worrying, wondering and daydreaming have been shelved.
I can’t say I feel bigger, stronger or tougher in response to the experience but I haven’t been mortally wounded either: determination and belief are intact.
What is a girl supposed to do with a rejection letter? I’m not about to use it printed/pleated/sculpted - copied multiple times - to create a piece of statement modern art: noose, flagellation whip or red-carpet full length, halter-topped, told-you-so, flock frock.
Nor am I off to bitch about how that rejection thingy was, like, right out of order! Cos, like, it came on an off-white background with black lettering and that "no-Daz?-like-I-feel-so-sorry-for-you" white teamed with black is so last-year!
The e-letter was the single most useful critique I have ever received: advice about how NEAR EDGWARE could be improved; and the reason why Eve decided not to add it to her portfolio.
I began by celebrating the strengths. Then started unpicking the text in search of sections in need of clarity – Clarity? Clarity? Has anyone seen Clarity anywhere I think I might have lost it (and I think you, Dear Reader, are probably agreeing round about now) – page one received its 94th re-edit! Don’t you think it’s super I've been keeping track of this statistic?
I wrote a submission while my partner bought the chocolate.
Many thanks to Eve White and her team – Sally Popplewell, so close to perfect it hurts.