There was this feeling of déjà vu; but the fact that I knew what to do made it even better.
I checked out of work early and went to a special, trendy place, this time a co-working café where you pay by the hour and can snack, drink and work.
It was rather crowded and noisier than I thought but I was very motivated. I had about two hours to do the job. I had listened to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons podcast on the train, and she said something about welcoming rejection letters.
Within two hours, all the last corrections to my novella were entered, spelling and grammar checked (again!), and I had checked the chapters for size and consistency. I got myself a mint tea and a butter cookie. Next to me was a guy who was working on a website, on my left there was a woman who had loads of pens and markers and was doodling logos on a big notebook.
Did I feel like I belong? Not really. These places always seem like clichés of themselves, like symbols of what they want to be (cool! young! creative!), but I don’t care and I do enjoy leaving my routine behind.
Sometimes a tourist came in and asked for a coffee, the barman tirelessly explained how it worked, and most tourists just bought a takeaway hot drink (it’s unseasonably cold here!). I left the café a bit elated, and went to a copy shop.
A stylish girl stood at the desk with the mandatory bright red lipstick. The copy shop was close to chic boutiques and bank headquarters, Opera and rue Saint Honoré. The girl looked at me quizzically after she opened my old, battered USB key and gave me a quote of more than 50 euros for two copies of my novella. It was ridiculous, and I couldn’t help but think that she was judging me. I promptly left the shop and found the old place close to home who had made me copies back in November for a very flat rate.
Maybe I have not accumulated enough rejections yet, but sending my story out gave me a boost of good mood and hope. I had decided that I would send it out before May 1st, and I have met the deadline, even if just barely.