OHFER

Its sometimes hard not to take life seriously. If my life was an American Idol results show, even Paula would be picking on me by now... "Oh, come on Will... we all know you've been eliminated! Give up already!" Such feelings and sentiments are clearly behind song lyrics like, "If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all." Apparently, my life has been one constant case of the blues... but hey, there's good music here.

I say this now, tongue firmly planted in cheek, because I can't seem to get away from Rejection Form hell. Its bad getting a rejection. Nobody likes it. But after four years of writing a novel, the last thing you want is a mimeographed form letter rejection that took someone 2 seconds to copy and seal in your self-addressed stamped envelope. It took longer for me to create the envelope than it took them to reject me and my novel. It almost makes one want to become a super villain with really bizarre demands - Publish My Novel or I Will Destroy Manhattan! Er, wait... that's hardly going to work, is it? Publish the novel of Mr. Will Robison, who is in no way affiliated with me, Dr. Nefarious, or I will destroy... well, you know.

The Ohfer's in my life keep stacking up. Its getting hard for me to see the sunlight over the huge pile of rejection I've received. Work hard and receive your just rewards... My ass! While Jesus is handing out all the juicy payola to His vineyard workers, He's going to take one look at me and say, "You missed a spot." I'm sure to be toiling out in the back 40 until long after the cow's have come home.

I say this all because I know that compared to many, my life is a dream. But I've developed this unhealthy desire to see myself published and rejection of this one goal seems like universal spite. I'm beginning to feel like Moses - I can see the promised land, but I will never enter. Still, it'd be nice to part a Red Sea or two along the way.

Well, maybe soon... maybe soon...