So many firsts....so much hope for seconds

I've placed in my first contest..... I've received my first prize-money check.....I've had my first interview...... and all of this from one small, 741-word flash fiction piece, Charon's Lament.

Had I known when I was writing and re-writing what I thought I would never be able to shave down below the 750-word max---that the piece and contest I almost gave up on---would land a 2nd place win, and on-line publication, I might have cursed my wordy sentences and my befuddled brain a little less.

There was a point, somewhere in the middle of one of those sleepless nights where I almost said, to hell with it. I almost tore my red-inked pages to shreds, almost slammed my laptop shut caring not to save whatever I had just typed, almost flopped back onto my bed--relishing the sour mood of defeat, which would have been far easier to endure. Almost. Almost.

What it was that kept me going, I don't know if I'll ever know. It certainly wasn't confidence in my writing ability--- I hadn't had and still don't have enough out there to convince me to submit based on my ability. It wasn't anyone's direct influence in submitting to this particular contest. I do have the supportive love of wonderful friends that prod me to continue, but none were aware that I contemplated entering this contest.

There was nothing specific that persuaded me to go ahead and enter, just like there was nothing specific that almost persuaded me to go ahead and accept defeat.

Funny how the duality of one's brain can snap back and forth so effortlessly. It's just as easy to listen to one side of your own argument as it is to listen to the other side.

What made my courageous side win out that night, I'll probably never know....but, I'm very glad it did win out. Now that I've had my first taste of what being a real writer feels like, I very much would like to fill my plate again. One small taste is never enough.

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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