The Great File Cabinet Purge of 2012 had all the elements of an archeological dig. Uncovered? Menus from out-of-business restaurants. Bank statements. And, of course, rejection letters from round one of the literary agent search.

That's right. I wrote a book.

Turns out penning 300 plus pages was the easy part. A whole lot harder? Finding an agent to bridge that exclusive world between author and publisher. Hence, my rejection e-mail, which read in part:

"I apologize for taking so long to get back to you about your work. Several other agents and I read your manuscript, and while we found many merits in your work, including the lively and humorous tone of the text, we unfortunately cannot represent your work at this time. Despite its clear potential, we found the manuscript to be a bit heavy on dialogue and lighter in regard of development of the plot. Undoubtedly these comments are subjective, and should by no means take away from the merits of your piece.

We believe that you are an extraordinarily promising writer and, being that we are a multimedia agency and you have a gift for humor, we would be happy to see any scripts that you may be inspired to write…"

Epic fail? Hardly. Granted, there was no golden ticket of representation, yet, but truth is, there shouldn't have been. The criticism of my book was spot on. Truthfully, all of this could have a bit of something to do with the fact that this was my first attempt at writing fiction. Um, ever.

No, really. Ever.

There were no afterschool fiction workshops. No journals filled with short stories. No college electives. So, all things considered, I think I'm doing a-okay. The humor in my writing? Recognized as a gift, with an invite for a round two submission.

Not too shabby.

So, thank you rejection. I don't see you as a personal attack on my talents or an excuse to give up. Rejection is my reward. It's an opportunity to grow. And to learn. Rejection is a chance to regroup, to figure out how to make it better and how much you want it.

Watch out rejection. I want it bad.