Kayla's been sewing lately. It's a hobby she's taken too rather joyfully. She wishes to open a shop on Etsy in the future should she start making a bajillion zipper pouches, which she seems intent on doing. We were thinking up names for her project when I came up with Bitter Button. Instantly, we laughed and imagined this little angry button standing there, menacing. And so, I just had to draw it. Whether or not Kayla actually names her shop Bitter Button is her decision, but nevertheless I just had to draw . . .
I'm trying to get published. I'm following all the rules. Write, submit, recieve rejection. That's the way it goes . . . at least, that's what Writer's Digest and Writer's Journal and Writer's Guide and blah, blah, blah all say. I once read the the average n00b will recieve at least one hundred rejections before finally recieving a letter of acceptance. It's all about the slush pile baby . . .
There's tricks of course . . . like resubmitting over and over and over to the same magazine so that hopefully, some day, someone will glance down at your piece, see your name and think to their self: C. D. Brinker, why do I know that name? Because I've submitted to you twenty-two fucking times!
But, whatever. Rejection slips don't bother me. What does bother me are those shitty little zines that have like eight issues out (anthologies nonetheless!) and call for open submissions and literally one week after I submit, I get their stupid auto-reply rejection slip! Like, did my piece even grace their crappy slush pile?! You formally reject my piece within the span of seven fucking days?! Are you really that busy compiling pdf formatted issues for your website that you can't wait a solid month before hitting REPLY - REJECTION?! Bitches.