Cleo threw the stack of papers back onto the desk. Rejected. Again. This time she was sure she had written something unique. Years it had taken her to fully flesh out her idea, and it was rejected. The only comment the publishers put was "too unoriginal". It's just too hard to be original these days. People can write something and someone has already done it. Same for drawing, painting, dancing, anything!

Cleo sighed. "Heck, I could write a story about my life and it would be filed for copyright!"

Nothing is new anymore.