Duotrope

May the 4th be with you, too.

Once again, I started this blog post only to discover I could write most of an essay without thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll finish this one—I haven’t looked back at the last one yet. That’s out of laziness, not fear. This latest assemblage of words scares me a bit since I’d be unmasking a “truth.” Sigh. I don’t know. I suppose I should write it, try to find it a home, explain —like in most essays— that we, as humans, are less different than we suppose.

I had a bit of niceness writing wise. The editor at The Journal let me know that my story “Anum Cara” went far in the process but ultimately didn’t make the cut. The nicer part being that he genuinely seemed interested in me sending more work. What I have plans to do is pull up that story, look at it again and send it out. If it was close for a venue that sports a 1.09% acceptance rate on Duotrope, the odds are in its favor to be accepted somewhere. It worked for “Our Mother’s  Memoir was Published Posthumously. On Purpose.” Mark Budman at Vestal Review gave it a “good” rejection and the next time I pulled the story up, I changed a few words and sent it off and BOOM. It will be up in Blueshift Journal #7 soon.

The days of Board of Education duties are soon to be over and then it’s back to audience member for me. Whatever will I do with my free time – other than read books that I choose instead of Alison Duwe’s choices? Well, there is the revision of “Near Eden, New York,” which “Anum Cara” is a chapter of, to complete. Luckily, it’s in fairly good shape so knock on mahogany that won’t be a horrible slogging mess. I could be wrong though. Nina Fosati sent two pieces last night with the lament, “Are they ready? I can’t tell anymore,” and those were for short stories. Mary Akers is going through the same thing with changing the point of view in “The Belongers.” Sure, writing is rewriting but where does one get the gumption? If you hear of a sale, please let me know.

Otherwise, it’s been rainy outside. I need to pull out the tulip and crocus bulbs and plant the lilies I just got. The neighbors would probably appreciate it if the lawn got mowed—at least the roadside yards—but eh, it’s too wet and I don’t care about property values at the moment. It isn’t like anyone drives by to consider moving here. The road is in piss-poor shape and there are no new businesses to attract people to the area. Well, these two were attracted to our property. Probably because of the lack of traffic on the road.

4.27.2017

Thanks for stopping by!

 

*These are my Creekside Reflections. Your experience may vary.

 

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NaNo Started, Or I started NaNo

If you’re reading this, it means I have successfully made it through the first day of NaNoWriMo 2012.

It was a bitch. I struggled, but as I was hovering around the last three hundred word mark, ready to give up for the day–tell myself I could come back and put in extra tomorrow, I caught a break and made it to 1806 with ease. I started a new sentence and saved the file in two places. I know enough of NaNo to not get too far ahead of myself.

Eck. So it’s a start. And I don’t talk about ongoing books because I’ve lost them that way, so how are you? Are you making Christmas plans?

My lovely niece is in negotiations to get as many people visited while she and her brother are in Pennsylvania for Christmas. I haven’t begun to take my Halloween decorations down yet. It’s on my list to have that taken care of before Thanksgiving. Or my sister’s visit–whichever comes first.

So, I know, it’s not much of a post. Please forgive, but if you’re looking for something to read, and you haven’t already, would you please at least consider buying Short Lean Cuts? I think it’s like a dollar for the kindle version. I started to read it yesterday.

I feel a wee bit guilty as I promised Alex that yesterday was the last day I was going to bitch, carp, cry, and complain about my submission to a certain magazine taking so long to go through the process when, on Duotrope, people are posting 70, 90, 100 day rejections and I’m like 270 days in now. For Feck’s sake! It’s annoying. If I had gotten pregnant on the day I submitted there, I’d be in labor now–or close to it. The third of November is the nine month mark. And since I just complained on the day I promised to stop for a month, I owe it to Alex Pruteanu to tell you that he’s a great writer. You can google him and read several of his stories for free before you decide to buy his book, but come on, it’s less than a dollar. Buy Short Lean Cuts. He’ll thank you for it and I won’t feel so bad about complaining about not getting a rejection (or acceptance) from a ‘top’ magazine in almost nine months.

Until next time!

(*These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your experience may vary.)