“What’s wrong?”

“I got rejected again. The bastards didn’t even read my script.”  She began to cry.

“Don’t cry.  I love you. Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t stop. I’ve worked my ass off for this script; just have the agent send me an email that doesn’t even pertain to my script.”  She cries harder. “They won’t f****n give me a chance!”

“Why do you let them upset you so much?”

“I don’t know.  I’d guess because I’ve wanted this more than anything in the world.”

“You’re seeking validation.  Listen, I’ll love you even if you never get published. I always have.”

“It’s not the rejection that pissed me off.  It was the fact the agent didn’t reference my plot, characters or genre; instead, she just said my script was full of errors.  That it was full of typos.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to finish my beer, cry about it for about a week and start over.”

“You have everything anyone could want.  Why don’t you just give-up?”

“Because getting published is the one thing I’ve wanted for so long.”

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