It's not you, it's me

Another in my series of occasional entries in which I inflict the mixture of excitement and anxiety I experience as my novel makes the rounds of publishers.

As of today the count is: five submissions, three rejections so far. Of the three rejections, two were what my agent termed "really nice declines." These feature the editor's pleasant and appreciative reactions to the book, along with the reasons he or she is not taking it. Today's nice decline read, in part:

Pritchard gets the banter and the scene so well-- I felt like I was sitting in the back of the car with the (characters).

I admit I enjoy reading the compliments -- probably way too much -- even as the editor is rejecting the book.