Today I sent out story submissions to four literary journals. This is the first time I have submitted something for publication (this blog and one book review notwithstanding). I’m both excited and relieved. Excited because I love getting things in the mail, and what is a literary submission if not guaranteed mail? I mean, I had to include a SASE and everything, so they’re bound to send something back to me, right? Relieved because I finally got off my butt and did something about my dream. That sounds so cliche. Let me rephrase: I am finally being proactive about my future. Meh, still not quite there, but I’ve spent enough space writing about feelings, so I’m moving on.
Sending out submissions was a little like sending out my graduate school applications. Same mailing envelope, same wait at the post office, same last-minute-omg-did-I-write-the-right-address-should-I-do-a-voodoo-dance-good-grief-postage-is-expensive anxiousness. Based on the results of my applications, four submissions will not be enough to become famous, but I’m ok with that. The first step is always the hardest, so they say. I’m glad I sent them out, and I’m glad that I waited until October – for once I didn’t return from the post office in a pool of misery and sweat.
In other news, Nanowrimo is less than a month away – have you sharpened your pencils yet?