While struggling to tame one of our overfull bookcases, I spotted my three-inch thick 2008 Writer’s Market. Sticky note laden and adorned by multi-colored highlights, folded page corners, and a dozen paperclips, I hate to think how many hours I spent curled around that book, studying which publisher wanted what and how to get it to them.
I used to purchase a revised edition every other year or so, but that stopped in 2008 when I received my first book contract. That contract, coupled with an on-line presence by virtually every publisher, dispelled my desire to purchase a newer version of Writer's Market. So into the recycle bin poor old 2008 will go, along with hours and hours of dreams of publication.
Please don't misunderstand, I’m comfortable saying farewell. New hopes and dreams have usurped the old, though my goals remain quite high. I have to confess though, after flipping through 2008 and contemplating all of the research and effort held within those pages, it is difficult for me to imagine how many publication goals were fulfilled, or how many nightmares of rejection continue to haunt, sustained entirely by all of that tiny print and those somewhat arcane symbols. I pray that the number of dreams put comfortably to bed is as enormous as the book itself, and I hope 2008 will soon rest in peace.