In one of the first scenes of the movie The Two Towers, several orcs argue over what to do with Merry and Pippin, their hostages. Some of the monsters would like to eat the hobbits; others are determined to follow orders and bring them back to their master. A fight ensues; one orc is killed in the process. The mob is momentarily shocked into silence, until its leader, Uglúk (pictured above) utters the memorable line that titles this post, and the orcs fall to.
It's one of the few times director Peter Jackson indulges in a little action-movie-crowd-pleasing cheesiness; it's the "Hasta la vista, baby" line of the film. As grisly as it is, I love the scene; the way I see it, the orcs are making the best of a bad situation. They've found the silver lining to a pretty dark cloud.
I went to the mailbox this morning with more than my usual apprehension; somehow I knew unpleasant news waited inside. Sure enough, I pulled a self-addressed, stamped envelope out of the stack; it was another rejection letter. This is the third I've received since sending out a gaggle of eleven query packages at the very beginning of the month (five on The Holly Place and six on ZF-360).
This letter was the least desirable type of rejection: an impersonal form letter on which even the signature was photocopied. It's the kind of information that makes me realize how large, yet how pathetically fragile my ego is. I know dealing with rejection is a part of any professional writer's life, just as frogging is a part of knitting and diapers are a part of mothering. I also know that querying is to getting published as dating is to getting married; you've got to find just the right partner to make things work. I know these things intellectually, so I'm trying to buck up and not take the rejection personally.
(But it feels personal. I told a writer friend the day I mailed the last of the packages off, "My babies are going out into the world. It feels like sending Christian [my 14-year-old] off to college." She answered, "No! It feels like sending Daniel [my 4-year-old] off to college!" And she was right.)
I decided when I got today's letter that I'd make my own silver lining: Christian, Daniel and I would go out for lunch (Christian is home early all this week due to mid-term exams). When I need to restore my sense of well-being, a thick, juicy cheeseburger is just the ticket, so we headed down to Garrison Market and indulged. It wasn't fresh orc, but it was mighty tasty.
So this is me, striving for sanguinity. At least the black dog is nowhere in sight; I really am fine, and I've got great plans for the rest of the day. I'll spend the evening at the Manhattan Temple with Patrick and another dear friend, and then the three of us will try out the highly rated and fabulous-sounding Café Gray, where not only meat like Pan-Seared Duck Breast, but also deliciousness like Skate Schnitzel, Lobster-Watermelon Salad, and Cherry Brown Butter Tart are featured on the menu.
And who knows what tomorrow's mail will bring? When it's all said and done, I'm sure the right thing will happen. Right?