I was reading a rant on amazon today about self-published work. The author of said rant believed that all self-published books are self-published because the big houses rejected them.

Specifically, this funny person wrote that “every publisher, every agent, and every editor thinks it’s crap. is there a reason for that? yes.”

All I can say to that is: L. O. L.

For the record, this is how it went when Wild Land was finished:

It is a sunny morning in spring. Outside, the world is calm. Birds are singing. But inside, there is electricity in the air…

“…The End!” Kathryn exclaimed, as her busy fingers made their final strokes. The triumph in her voice was echoed across eternity.
(end!… end!… end!)
Suddenly, a savage knocking came at the door. Kathryn jumped to her feet. Something was wrong here… but what?
Then it hit her. Maggie, the usually proud defender of the house that barks at any remotely knocking-like-sound, even if someone knocks on a door in a movie, or places a cup too enthusiastically down on a hard table, wasn’t barking.
The birds weren’t singing.
The cat… well, he was licking his privates.
“What new evil is this?” Kathryn whispered.
Steeling herself against whatever lay ahead, Kathryn back-flipped to the door, swinging it open before whoever was on the other side could react.
But it wasn’t just one person on the other side.
“Wow!” Kathryn exclaimed, looking at the crowd of top agents, publishers, and editors crowded around her front door, “if it isn’t the top agents, publishers and editors, all crowded around my door!”
Chaos broke out almost immediately. People were yelling their offers all pell mell. It was a veritable ad-libs of “Sign this!” “We’ll give you a movie deal!” “Bear my children!”
Finally, Kathryn could stand no more.
“Enough!” she shouted, holding her hands up for a silence which fell immediately.
“I’m just going to do this myself!”

The End.