Today, I received a rejection envelope from the Baltimore Playwright's Festival. There was nothing inside; the envelope wasn't even sealed. I checked the website and my name was not among the winners posted, so I'm about 110% sure that what I am missing is my rejection.
Ladies and Gentlemen: I have now crossed over into the realm of rejection envelope. My play wasn't even worth the grocery-receipt sized "no thanks". This keeps getting better and better.
What you're reading now is the first I've written in three days. I quit writing because I didn't think my writing "career" could get any worse. But that was before the rejection envelope.
I am so depressed, it physically hurts to breathe.
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