To Still The Within

I sit, manuscript almost ready, determination on thunder cat go. It is time. I am going to finally put paper in envelope or in this case, many papers, packaging off my soul to be judged. Submission. Rejection. Depression. Re-submission. The ugly little circle of the publishing world. A world where only the lucky and Stephen King survive. I feel like I am putting a stamp on my child and dropping it off in the night deposit box. So final. No calling it back. Like karma, once out there it will come back, the question is will you want it to? Ugly with red marks, scarring its once pristine white with black Arial symmetry, ripping through me like a knife. Do I submit.....or no?



< --- My most recent muse