This past week wasn't as bad as this particular week, but there were still a few things that got my briefs in a bunch and caused this grandma to grumble:

1. Rejection. As many of you know, I have an agent. For my picture books. And as many of you may know, the picture book market has gone down the toilet. But after reading (and rejecting) my first book, an editor requested that I write another on a topic she wanted covered. I did, she loved it, and for two months it's been under consideration with her peers (they buy books by committee at some places). Then the house hired a new head who brought authors with him/her, one of whom had a book quite similar to mine. That author and that book get to be published. My book is dead in the water. Decision by the new publisher. My agent apologized, cited the cuss market, said she's no longer even representing picture books because of the dismal forecast for them, and suggested I submit my manuscripts to children's magazines. Which stinks. I want a book published, not a story in a magazine. But I shouldn't complain: At least the picture book manuscripts scored me an agent and we have other things in the works.

2. Tornado coverage. The devastation of the deadly tornadoes has broken my heart and I wanted to check out news coverage Thursday morning. But because we recently canceled cable, I had to rely on network morning news, no CNN. Well, every freakin' network morning news show went on and on and on about the cussing royal wedding. I don't care about the wedding, I care about our folks here at home, wanted to know about folks here at home. Sure, there were brief — shamefully brief — updates on the devastation, but for the most part, I heard only about dresses, and guests, and vows, and wacky people from all over the globe camping out for a prime spot to view the spectacle. But I shouldn't complain: At least I could find all the news I could take online. And at least I'm blessed to not be in the stricken areas or have lost loved ones.

3. Car rental woes. I, along with my immediate family living in Colorado, will be headed to the desert when Mac (ha! first time using that!) is born and Bubby celebrates his third birthday. We'll be there a week, thus needing a rental car. So I reserved the rental car ... and about died when the cussing taxes and fees and miscellaneous charges doubled the price. Honest: The original rental fee was exactly doubled when all that cuss was added. Crazy. I'm paying more for the car than I am for my airfare. But I shouldn't complain: At least we're all able to go visit the newborn and celebrate yet another birthday with our Bubby.

4. Dyslexia assistance. I'm a site coordinator for the local Children's Literacy Center. I manage the tutors, tutors who are not trained to diagnose nor work with dyslexic children. That's understandable, fine, and good, because in the public schools there are special programs for diagnosing and aiding students when dyslexia is suspected and/or confirmed. Right? Wrong! That's not the case, at least not the public school system in which one of my students is enrolled. So a lovely mother struggling to do what's right for her kid and struggling with finances and thus unable to pay the exhorbitant cost of private testing and programs is left flailing and worried sick about her struggling daughter. Said daughter can no longer be in our tutoring program because of resrictions related to IEPs and dyslexia, yet the cussing school system has nothing to offer her, I'm told. I see a child slipping through the cracks right before my eyes and I see her mother's heart breaking and I can't do anything about it. Which breaks my heart. But I shouldn't complain: BS! We all should be complaining about such things. There is no "at least" in this instance, is nothing that reverses this travesty. Which just plain sucks.

Shew! I'm done. Thank you for letting me get that all off my chest.

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What do you need to get off your chest?