I’ve gotten at least five more rejections since the last time I’ve mentioned it, and I’m contemplating something crazy — querying non-genre (i.e. literary/upmarket fiction) agents to represent me.

Maybe it’s the depression talking — “You have nothing more to lose. You might as well set yourself up for rejection and get it over with.”

Maybe it’s that a friend of my husband’s (a writer in the small-press horror genre) said I write too well for genre fiction. I don’t know if I believe him — I might, however, write too subtly for genre fiction.
Maybe, though, I write too subtly for any fiction.

I don’t think I stand a chance. I write about ordinary people rubbing elbows with preternatural creatures who together face supernatural warfare that is in some ways all too human. I write about the intersection of time travel and global warming. I write complex, imperfect characters who may not be human, with all that means. I don’t know if literary or upmarket wants to read that.

I’m still thinking, folks. I’m still thinking.

Wish me luck.