Shelter in Place Day 61
Early yesterday morning I’d sent off a short story that I’d written over a two week period. I’d gotten it edited and sent out copies to about four people to beta read. One person returned my form and with her help, I was able to fix things that didn’t seem to work and added a few more things. Removed overused words. OMG! I found 43 instances of the word that in the story. Lowered those significantly.
However, after all of that I was able to send off a really sweet story called The Prince of Hearts. When I sent it off I prepared myself for it not to be accepted. And this isn’t because it’s not a good story, I just have that feeling a lot lately. And, I don’t know why I need to have a publishing company behind a story to tell me I’m a good writer.
I have been published with two publishers. I even had the editor of a book, where one of my short stories is in tell me “You shouldn’t be surprised the book won an award, because you’re a great writer.”
I’m prepared because after I checked out the publisher and the types of stories they publish, The Prince of Hearts might be too sweet for them. Might not be one of the stories they are looking for, but you know what this is the time I don’t care if they don’t accept it. Sure, I’ll be sad, but I won’t be devastated like the other times my story wasn’t accepted.
Because I’m already plotting out the book that will give Grady & Matthew the happily ever after they deserve. If it gets picked, awesome, it’ll be new readers who haven’t heard of me. If it doesn’t, great… it’ll be a freebie readers of my books will get when they join my newsletter.
It’s a win-win for me. But, I spent most of yesterday in a state of Meh. Except for the three hours when I was on a zoom call with my old D&D group. Three men and two women, we hadn’t seen each other for thirty years. And it was like the old days, talking over each other, reliving old games and our theater days. We’d met in Jr. College in the theater department.
Afterwards, I just went back into the funk of not hearing back from people or figuring out how I felt about something else. And watching two different groups of people fighting over things. And I blame all of this huge amount of meh on it being 60 days inside.
So, what will 61, 62, 70, 83 and so on bring me? I’m hoping for a more clear mind, centered. The Husbear and I are still here. Sure, we argue about stupid, but we are working things out. We love each other and we thank each other for being here still. What I hope to see in those days are more zoom calls with my old D&D group, readings of plays, finally getting my writing friends together in a zoom or Skype call or even one of the new google meetings or facebook group calls and write sprints every 30 mins.
I’m going to be wearing a mask and gloves when I go outside, I’m going to be careful and wipe down those packages and I’m going to survive. I’m not ready to die, I’ve got too many stories in my head. And I’ll self-publish them or I’ll get something accepted, but I’m never going to doubt my writing again. Not everyone likes what I write, but someone does. And those people will buy it when they find it.
What stance are you taking for the future?