I am pleased to say I am well on my way to catching up from the weekend. Yesterday I wrote approximately 3,500 words! Today I intend to do the same…though I have successfully avoided writing all day and it is already 3:30.
I have, however, submitted another short story to another magazine and sent out yet another book query, as well as updated which agents have passively rejected me (a.k.a., just didn’t respond within an allotted amount of time). I have, therefore, officially experienced three book/agent rejections. As my husband joyfully told me, that means I have only 97ish more to go!
One other thing that may interest you: I officially added a “short stories” page to my website under the newly updated “Writing” tab. This is the area in which I will deposit either short stories that have been rejected over 20-30 times but I still think people might enjoy, or stories that I don’t feel like having rejected and still want to share.
The first and only story I have uploaded so far falls into the latter category. I wrote Courage so many years ago, I don’t even remember exactly when. Well over a decade ago, if not more. I think I may have been around 15 and was in love with Tennyson’s poems (not that that has changed at all). I, of course, have edited it since, but the essence is still the same. And, while a little dramatic, something in me still finds it poignant, and I hope you do too.
From my last writing session:
William started as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and dropped the piece of wood he was loading into the stove as he whirled. He gaped as he took in the skinny girl in her nightclothes, holding his gun, and raising it above her head with the broad side of the stock facing him, clearly about to hit him over the head.
And below is the comic they are referring to in the above comic: