On New Year’s Eve, an unprecedented number of birds fell from the sky in Arkansas. If I weren’t a Charles Fort junky, I could say ‘That doesn’t happen,’ but I know it does. Fish, and even frogs, have been known to fall from the sky. Weird stuff happens all of the time.
“What I was Going to Remind You of Someday” is the name of an essay I wrote from P. H. Madore’s contest prompt of “You Could Have Had Me.” There is a link to it on the right if you’re interested in reading it. I sent it in. I didn’t know if it arrived. I got an email stating I was in the running. I didn’t expect to win. The contest was scheduled to go until 31 January. On January 2nd, I was notified I had won. I couldn’t believe it. I’m not gloating; that is unseemly. I am incredibly flattered. It has yet to fully sink in–that my writing was that good; close-down-a-writing-contest good.
Now that IS something that never happens. If it has, I haven’t heard about it.
My question is: What does that mean? Even though I was planning on working on novel writing this year–something I mentioned to everyone in the Christmas letter, should I take this as a sign that I ought to be working on essays instead? Creative non-fiction in general? I don’t know. This is a dilemma of my own choosing-I do know that and I am incredibly grateful for the problems I have, but I have this nagging feeling that maybe I should readjust my sights…
Chyo often reminds me that Doyle hated Sherlock; I like my “Sherlocks” though. At the moment, I have twenty-eight pieces submitted and one fellowship application being evaluated. I’m going to follow through with the chapter revisions that are on my to-do list. I’m going to be still and wait and see what comes next. I would think an acceptance for a short story would confuse me, though.
If you were going to enter the essay contest, I am sorry you didn’t get a chance to do so. I do not know the judge. Actually, I honestly felt like I was cheating on Dawn Corrigan when I submitted to a different editor at Girls with Insurance, if you want the truth. But I remind myself that she wasn’t running a contest and she prefers poetry and flash, not essays…
It’s a heck of a good blast into the New Year, except for those poor birds. I hope yours is going well. Thank you for stopping by!