"Hey! I have something I wanted to show you."
Not my roommate
"Sure. What is it?" Grabs paper and reads it.
"It's a rejection from Esquire. They invited me to submit more work. This is why I've been so crazy happy all week. "
Still not my roommate.
And another strange look.
"Which story was it?"
Whilst pondering the succession of strange looks I say, "Adaptation. The one where the girl licks the lollipop."
Another strange look. "Okay."
And we part ways.
Later, I realized I forgot a key bit of information.
Esquire is a big, big writing credit. They publish fiction. Not porn but true and tried literary fiction. A lot of famous writers have gotten a start through esquire.
However, by neglecting to mention this, my roommate probably thought I was flaunting an almost sale of porn. Telling him it's the one where the girl licks the lollipop nothing to clear things up. Perhaps he even though lollipop was a euphemism.
But the most important detail is that Esquire sent me a personal rejection. They asked for more work and gave me some guideline information should I ever submit anything ever again.
M.R. Jordan is a writer, editor, sporadic blogger, and lover of beer. Lives in South Korea with her two cats, Bear and Geumbi.
Bear (Gom in Korean) then (above) now (below)
Geumbi (Gold in English)... then (above) and now (below).