Who Do You Think You ARE?

Loved Ones today Helen is going to seize this forum today to address something that’s on her mind.

So, like EVERY post, right?
 I mean Helen even uses furniture her own way.
Comfy chairs? They're for sissies who don't have cute boots to admire.

If I were writing to myself it might go something like:

Dear wise, witty and wonderful, all knowing, all seeing Helen... well, you get it.

Sorry, got carried away. It would be a question about handling rejection. As a writer I have had plenty of it but yesterday when an editor passed on a series of books set in 1965 where in Helen Hartman spins a cautionary tale around the romantic adventures of Samantha Anthem (madcap media heiress) and Joe Fellows (ex-Marine/ surfer dude/photo journalist) (be honest, you already want to read these books, don’t you?) it just took the wind out of me.

The wind out of you?
I hope you didn’t blame it on the dog

I was ready to shut down the blog, Let Helen do a face plant on FaceBook and give up on what felt like a failed writing career. Before that I thought I’d do what any intelligent person would -

Dear Helen Hartman,

My work is a drag. I am at the bottom of the food chain - paid the least, no benefits and get blamed for everything that goes wrong. Looking for another job but so far, nothing. The one ray of hope I had, that I’d get a book deal and could quit my job, has fallen through. I’d love to know how to keep going when you feel so trapped.

Dear Loved and Sometimes Wants To Smack on the Head One,

As always Helen sees through your ploy for sympathy and to the heart of the matter. It’s not about rejection, it’s about the wish to be rescued. You are upset because someone has denied you what you see as the easy way out of a bad spot. Leaving Helen to ask: Who do you think you are?

Snow White? On what planet? No, my dear, You are a princess of a different color.

Just because I'm lovely do not make the mistake of thinking
that if you mess with me and mine I won't bury your little butt in the back yard
under Mama's bougainvilleas.

That’s right. You need to step away from the wishing well, wake your own self up, pull down your mama’s portieres and make yourself an outfit, grab yourself a turnip and as God is your witness never let someone else decide if you are good enough again. Today is the day you need to start channeling your inner Scarlett.

The day you stop looking for someone else to save you is the day you decide whether to eat the poison apple, crawl into a glass coffin and let life pass you by or get busy with the work of saving yourself.

You know you can do this, you once served the whole dang Junior League using flower pots and tablescraps and made it look like a planned affair.

I am not sure how this will look.

But then people weren't sure how kitchen carpet would look.
If they had any sense, they might have figured out - great for a week, nasty ever after.
But did that stop them from going to Sears and ordering some?

But that’s what I am going to do (not install kitchen carpet, I still have some dignity left). I am going to regroup and get to work -- I have more books to write and less crap to take.

Have  Great Weekend!

joining Pink Saturday, as always!