I am so pleased to have reached the point where rejection letters do not bother me. Admittedly it has taken 20 years but it is nice all the same. I received an email yesterday from a literary magazine saying in essence, like the writing but can't use the story.

And I quote: While we enjoyed reading your story, and especially some of the images (such as the day baring brilliant teeth), we felt that the fairytale tone was perhaps closer to a speculative-fiction feel than we were comfortable with publishing in Etchings. We do, however, wish you the best of luck with placing your story elsewhere.

I had actually completely forgotten I had sent it as it must be nine months ago that it was forwarded to them via the cosmos. Never mind, having returned to my probably pretty much readerless blog I have decided to post the story here. At least then someone may read it as opposed to no-one.

You need to develop a pretty thick skin and to be endowed with enduring stubborness to keep writing while remaining unpublished. I remember years ago a rejection letter would have me in tears of rage.... sourced no doubt in deep feelings of inadequacy and rejection .... for at least an hour or two. I always got over it quickly but the kneejerk reaction was always profound. However, no more, so perhaps in this sense at least I have grown up. At 60 one should hope so. Although it is never a given.