And away we go.
I got my first proper rejection from a publisher today. I knew it would come, I know they will continue. Over and over, like endless, unrepentant waves on a shore… Much the same as my realisation of the way the grief of losing you was going to work as I started to wake up in my new life seven years ago, a few months after you left.
You should be here tonight. I miss you tonight. Why? Why tonight out of all the other nights that have passed this year since your sixth birth day? Well, it’s as random and unpredictable as what I expect your behaviour would be (as a child of this age). I was lighting a candle just before for today’s Remembrance and it hit me. The candle was next to a photo of your sister as a baby. The shelf above has a photo of you, older than her in your photo. How is it? You passed each other by. She mentioned you again yesterday. It happens a lot and then peters out again, as her little mind comprehends that bit more. “Ella’s my sister and she’s in our family but we’ll never see her again,” her forlorn little voice trails off from the back seat of the car. Keep it together, you’ve got mascara on, I say to myself in the front.
So the night will wear on. We have a house full of family expected. I can’t get motivated to clean the house and get the dinner on. I have to. My cheeks are flushed. My mind is on you. On the relentless rejections I am going to brace myself for in the lead-up to Christmas. Hey…. as I said, I knew it would happen.
It’s time for me to release myself from this project a little, so that I can cope with it. It’s not a matter of toughening up. I’ve lost you. I’m tough. I’m as resilient as stone.
But now, to find a way for my head and my heart to work separately, for I am not ever severing myself from my journey with you. But now, the book becomes a part of the world. Just as when you came and left again, you very clearly showed me you were not ever mine alone to own.
I love you, baby girl. And along with those 12 other little lost beginnings of life of mine, as well as the countless more around the globe, I remember you today. As always.
Beautiful words.
xxxx
So want to give you and yours a big hug… and, yes, your book too. It will find its way to a publisher. It will find its way to the right one; one that will care for it and nurture it as it needs to be. Try not to see them as rejections… the book is merely waiting for the right publisher to 'select' it. They're out there waiting for it right now.
Hugs K! That's all.
That is just a letter, easily thrown away. Your story is yours, still to be shared with the world, nothing will change that. The good letter will arrive one day!
Hug for you. You are amazing
Remembering here too.
I guess that's it, isn't it, the spearating of heart and head. That the rejection letter isn't about you, or her. Just the project trying to find it's rightful place to bloom into a published piece, and there will be a yes in there somewhere, some time. But only by the right people for the job, and really, all the applying is you sifting through them until the right one comes alone.
Hugs xx
Remembering helps, remember how far you have come and how strong you are now.
Love & light to you as you light a candle for Ella and all your angels. I am so sorry for your losses, how incredibly difficult it must have been. I've only lost one baby …
I've read your story before , but not this blog …well that I remember.
Hope the snail mail brings you a happy letter soon.
Hugs my love, hugs to all of you. Beautiful words written from a beautiful heart. Do not lose faith in your book, when the time is right it will happen. I really do believe that. xxx
The time will come when a publisher sees the beauty in your work and enthusiastically offers to publish your book. Either way, Ella is proud of you and your sharing her story with the world.
That would have stung
But publisher or not, your journey, and Ella, have already touched so many 
Lots of big iced apple cakes to you.
(((((Being Me))))))
You are a very inspirational lady.
Mich x
*big hug*