Don't bother reading this.
I like it when these lists come out, because it reminds me that "you're nobody motherfucker. We don't even see you." Just for reference. We like making lists. I keep telling myself that it doesn't bother me, but who are we fucking here? I think well of my work. Combine it with the day I'm having at work? Priceless.
I really wish this business wasn't soaked in the grimy sweat of hungry desperation that seems to drip from its every pore. I wish it was something where we could be content with whatever success we found, perhaps take a little joy in the work itself. I wish it wasn't so tightly linked to social circles and convention circuits, and whose friend's editor's agent is on the selection committee. I'm being overly vitriolic about this, but I don't think anything works. I don't think anyone is right.
Anyway. Insert rant about gatekeepers and meritocracy and the problem with art as commercial product. Reference what's important to you, and what you would do if you were doing what you wanted. Ask yourself why you're not happy, and be happy.
I'm just saying. Why am I sitting here?