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truepennyI'm starting to get back in the groove on the short-story submission side of things.
This is, honestly, one of the most soul-destroying and downright tedious parts of a professional writer's life. (OMG, did I just call myself a professional writer? Shit, man, can't take it back. It's true.) Send the story out, wait, get the rejection letter. Send the story out, wait, get the rejection letter. Lather, rinse, repeat. The tedium is only infrequently enlivened by actually making a sale, and one is beset at all times by doubts and anxieties and the general sensation that perhaps one is making an ass of oneself. Or that perhaps one is just a lunatic and would be better off making paper airplanes of one's mss and launching them from the top row of bleachers in the football stadium.
And yet I (and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
matociquala and buymeaclue and dozens of other Earnest Young Writers such as ourselves) keep doing it. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Being a writer is banging your head against a brick wall until the wall falls down.
This week I have submitted three stories (plus one that has to wait until Monday so the Post Office will have IRCs in stock again), picked the three stories that are waiting for Tales of the Unanticipated's reading period to open on July 15th, queried about four stories in submission and resubbed one.
I have thirteen stories out, one that's going out Monday, and three that will be going out 7/15/04. And that's my entire inventory.
It won't last, but it's a nice feeling while it does.
This is, honestly, one of the most soul-destroying and downright tedious parts of a professional writer's life. (OMG, did I just call myself a professional writer? Shit, man, can't take it back. It's true.) Send the story out, wait, get the rejection letter. Send the story out, wait, get the rejection letter. Lather, rinse, repeat. The tedium is only infrequently enlivened by actually making a sale, and one is beset at all times by doubts and anxieties and the general sensation that perhaps one is making an ass of oneself. Or that perhaps one is just a lunatic and would be better off making paper airplanes of one's mss and launching them from the top row of bleachers in the football stadium.
And yet I (and
matociquala and buymeaclue and dozens of other Earnest Young Writers such as ourselves) keep doing it. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Being a writer is banging your head against a brick wall until the wall falls down.This week I have submitted three stories (plus one that has to wait until Monday so the Post Office will have IRCs in stock again), picked the three stories that are waiting for Tales of the Unanticipated's reading period to open on July 15th, queried about four stories in submission and resubbed one.
I have thirteen stories out, one that's going out Monday, and three that will be going out 7/15/04. And that's my entire inventory.
It won't last, but it's a nice feeling while it does.
