Today...tonight... 2 hours ago, I did something I've put off, procrastinated, and shied away from for the last 10 years---
I submitted my first work of fiction to a literary journal.
When I first started writing (no, let me phrase that better), when I first began writing again, just after college, all I could think about was someday becoming published---one day I could call myself an author. It's funny, but when I was an 11-year-old poet, I never thought about using my writing to make a living. I just wrote because I wanted/needed to.
And, while that want/need is still the same, 23 years later, now...NOW... I'm thinking of my writing with a career in mind.
It isn't so much that I believe I can truly make a living from what I write---though I would love it if I could. No, what I'm thinking about now is the cold, hard fact that writing must be treated as a profession, and not a hobby, if I ever intend on doing anything with it.
Every year I've accumulated a mass of words-- poems, novella-length and novel-length manuscripts, blog posts, etc. What I haven't done is accumulate a stack of rejection slips...because I've never submitted anything. Well, outside of the 4 random pieces I sent off to different contests about 4 years ago. But, I don't want to count the contest entries as submissions (even though I placed 2nd in one of them and was subsequently published on their website).
No, today was different.
Do I EXPECT my submission to amount to anything? Other than my first rejection slip, no I don't.
What I HOPE, however, is that this submission is like the tiny pebble popping free from the dike---allowing a steady stream to trickle through until the eroding trait of the water allows that stream to grow and the pressure to increase until the sea breaks forth.....
So, I say Bon Voyage, A Measure of Worth, may your journey be smooth and swift!
I submitted my first work of fiction to a literary journal.
When I first started writing (no, let me phrase that better), when I first began writing again, just after college, all I could think about was someday becoming published---one day I could call myself an author. It's funny, but when I was an 11-year-old poet, I never thought about using my writing to make a living. I just wrote because I wanted/needed to.
And, while that want/need is still the same, 23 years later, now...NOW... I'm thinking of my writing with a career in mind.
It isn't so much that I believe I can truly make a living from what I write---though I would love it if I could. No, what I'm thinking about now is the cold, hard fact that writing must be treated as a profession, and not a hobby, if I ever intend on doing anything with it.
Every year I've accumulated a mass of words-- poems, novella-length and novel-length manuscripts, blog posts, etc. What I haven't done is accumulate a stack of rejection slips...because I've never submitted anything. Well, outside of the 4 random pieces I sent off to different contests about 4 years ago. But, I don't want to count the contest entries as submissions (even though I placed 2nd in one of them and was subsequently published on their website).
No, today was different.
Do I EXPECT my submission to amount to anything? Other than my first rejection slip, no I don't.
What I HOPE, however, is that this submission is like the tiny pebble popping free from the dike---allowing a steady stream to trickle through until the eroding trait of the water allows that stream to grow and the pressure to increase until the sea breaks forth.....
So, I say Bon Voyage, A Measure of Worth, may your journey be smooth and swift!
Congratulations! Think positive though! That rejection letter could be a acceptance letter
ReplyDeleteThanks! We'll see though.... I'm kinda liking the idea of papering my wall with rejection slips----
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