NO. Can you handle it? NO!

It was a no.

I'm stupid enough to ask the greatest book editor in North America if we can make a financial arrangement instead of me paying his standard rates.

I thought, "What if I was David Sedaris? Sedaris wouldn't have to pay him." Sedaris? Who am I kidding besides myself of course. Why didn't somebody say to me, "Go get an MFA and then I'll take you seriously." Instead they were subtle, "You can take up any hobby you want, where you'll meet other people, to interact with."

After receiving the editor's email, sitting cross legged in a puddle of my own tears, I briefly thought about giving up. But that darn optimism started making excuses not to linger in self pity. That darn optimism said, "You haven't tried every lit agent. And, you haven't ever tried submitting to a publishing house. In the meantime, you could always make your script better." Darn optimism threw in, "And you have another 44 years until you have to start to worry about getting too old."

Jeez, it could also be a million times worse. So, are you optimistic?

I'm optimistic but fear I could be full of shit.