It was the best of times...

It was a weird week. Not a bad one. Not really. But weird.

I had a couple of gloomy days. They always scare me. Am I depressed again? Do I need Zoloft again? Am I never going to be happy again?

I had a book rejected. It was an R & R and--okay, I admit it--I thought it would be accepted, or at least more revisions suggested. But it was rejected in the nicest possible way by one of my favorite-ever editors. I wanted to work with her again, but in all honesty, the publisher's going one way and...