(Not) winning
This was the first weekend in a while that I could really look forward to writing. It made me realize that while I may have a third book out at the beginning of the new year, what I was most excited about was the work that ran up to it. Not that the editing experience was not enriching, or that it did not produce an objectively better book. But nor could I really say what it was, either. For those of you who aren't aware of my facebook page, the cover is done. For those of you who are, the edits are also complete.
I didn't win, or place, or garner an honorable mention once again in the sci-fi short story competition that I attempt yearly these days. It would be a lie to say that yet another flop isn't a repeated blow to my ego. On the other hand, I really believe I had assumed the dual posture of someone who both thought he would do exceptionally well and someone who would not be surprised to get the rejection letter. As always, the form letter came along with it links to online classes and lectures that were beneficial to past winners. In my mind I thought, "I don't need any help to write more like me, thanks," but out loud my only voice is the sound of my mouse, working steadily to move the letter into the online stack of rejections I'm collecting.
If you'd like to read what I submitted to the competition, it's here.
Unfortunately, I got back to my writing too late to immediately jump back into it. My careful road map of an outline helped practically none at all. I couldn't figure out the deeper, hidden things that the me in the moment would've just known. I realized I would have to re-introduce myself to everything all over again. My confidence at finishing before Spring slipped ever so slightly. Which is to say I take it as a challenge.
I also reconnected with a former co-worker recently, and she paid me half a dozen startling compliments. She's someone I highly respect because she's a writer, too, and a sculptor and philosopher, and has been published... in Finnish. She spends times for months over seas and makes journals of her travels; she owns fewer things than most by choice. She's a wizard, and this person decided to draw something I wrote, and then asked me if that was alright. I couldn't imagine a scenario when it wouldn't be.
Lastly, the other situation that I was very hopeful for fell through, also. That window over at Harper Voyager closed. I got my submission in, and the three months are just about up. After it, they insisted the author accept their silence as a rejection. So, no breakthroughs today, or for the whole of 2012. That's alright, I suppose. Provided we're all still here and kicking, there's always 2013.
I didn't win, or place, or garner an honorable mention once again in the sci-fi short story competition that I attempt yearly these days. It would be a lie to say that yet another flop isn't a repeated blow to my ego. On the other hand, I really believe I had assumed the dual posture of someone who both thought he would do exceptionally well and someone who would not be surprised to get the rejection letter. As always, the form letter came along with it links to online classes and lectures that were beneficial to past winners. In my mind I thought, "I don't need any help to write more like me, thanks," but out loud my only voice is the sound of my mouse, working steadily to move the letter into the online stack of rejections I'm collecting.
If you'd like to read what I submitted to the competition, it's here.
Unfortunately, I got back to my writing too late to immediately jump back into it. My careful road map of an outline helped practically none at all. I couldn't figure out the deeper, hidden things that the me in the moment would've just known. I realized I would have to re-introduce myself to everything all over again. My confidence at finishing before Spring slipped ever so slightly. Which is to say I take it as a challenge.
I also reconnected with a former co-worker recently, and she paid me half a dozen startling compliments. She's someone I highly respect because she's a writer, too, and a sculptor and philosopher, and has been published... in Finnish. She spends times for months over seas and makes journals of her travels; she owns fewer things than most by choice. She's a wizard, and this person decided to draw something I wrote, and then asked me if that was alright. I couldn't imagine a scenario when it wouldn't be.
Lastly, the other situation that I was very hopeful for fell through, also. That window over at Harper Voyager closed. I got my submission in, and the three months are just about up. After it, they insisted the author accept their silence as a rejection. So, no breakthroughs today, or for the whole of 2012. That's alright, I suppose. Provided we're all still here and kicking, there's always 2013.
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