I wrote it my way…

For anyone who has ever submitted a manuscript then the day finally comes when the package returns. (With apologies to Frank Sinatra.)

And now, the post is here;
And so I face the mail uncertain.
That jiffy bag is mine,
I want to hide behind the curtain.

I sent a full typescript,
I edited, not in a shy way.
And still, I have to say,
I wrote it my way.

Rejects, I’ve had a few,
But then again, which writer hasn’t?
I did what I had to do,
And ploughed on through, it wasn’t pleasant

I planned each chapter well;
My characters along the byway.
But still, I have to say,
I wrote it my way.

Yes, there are some, I’m sure it’s true.
They got their book deals, from who they knew.
A relative who’s in the trade,
One dinner guest and they are made.
But that’s not me, and so you see,
I wrote it my way.

I’ve tried, I’ve done rewrites;
I’ve started new and different projects.
My bottom drawer is full,
Attempted all different subjects.

To think I wrote all that;
And may I say – not in a sly way,
No, oh no not me,
I wrote it my way.

For what is a scribe, what have they got?
If not their dreams, genre and plot?
Create the words they love so well.
Or sometimes crap, in case it sells.
I read the note, lump in my throat,
I wrote it my way.

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