Gemotions

The news had hit Marcus like a physical blow. He'd spent years honing his craft, crafting this particular novel. He knew it was good. He believed in it. And yet, the prestigious publishing house, the one he had coveted, had dismissed it with a bland, pre-written form letter.

He stopped eating, the food becoming tasteless and unappealing. He went through the motions of his day, but his heart wasn't in it. Everything felt pointless.

He found himself wandering aimlessly through the city streets, the familiar landmarks now devoid of meaning. He stopped at a bookstore, stared at the shelves of published works, and felt a profound sense of inadequacy. He wanted to scream.