I’m forcing myself to move in some new directions, seeing as how the old directions were leaving me mired in routine that went nowhere. As part of that I’m writing things I don’t normally write–flash fiction–and submitting to magazines. I sent my first project out for beta reads last night and so far the reactions have been both good and helpful. Which is the best scenario a person could ask for from beta readers. All that remains is to implement suggestions and clean the thing up before submitting. The absolute worst thing that could happen is that the piece doesn’t get published. And since it wasn’t getting published anyway by just sitting in my head or on my computer, I suppose that outcome isn’t going to kill me.
The funny thing is that this particular short story was meant as a one-off written as a favour to my mother. I get mired in writing novels and figured short stories were a good tool for honing certain skills. (hat tip to nm who suggested that in the first place.) But now a few of the beta readers have mentioned that they’d like more stories about the character and that world. So there may be a longer work after all. Heh.
Oh, yeah. My point (and I do have one) is that here I am, all proud of myself for getting it together and accomplishing goals right and left in spite of myself. I mean, I’ve cleaned my bathroom and my cluttered closet shelf and actually cooked a meal. In my new, edited, lifestyle these are all HUGE accomplishments equal in measure to a healthy person running a half marathon. And so of course I’ve gotten sick again with the turn of the weather and the coming of the rain.
It’s my thorn to deal with, a la Paul, and I guess I should just deal with it. But it’s so frustrating to be moving along and have your body say “not so fast, chief!” Argh. In fact I’m only writing this entry as an exercise in staying focused in spite of the thorn. That would be why this entry is sooooo whingingly awful but is written anyway.
I had better ideas for topics of conversation but my mind isn’t working at that level right now. I’d tell you what those ideas were, but then it’d be like one of my big annoyances with Oprah and Rush Limbaugh and Dave Ramsey. Years ago when I watched/listened to these programs they’d always promise to come back from commercial break with some really tantalising topic. And then they’d come back and forget to deliver on the promise. So I sat through irritating commercials for pawn shops and razor blades waiting to hear the husband’s reaction to the wife’s disclosure or Rush’s takedown of Clinton’s policy or Dave’s tips on the best mortgage. And they never happened. So I try not to say “later in the week I’ll be writing about why Christians shouldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving” because chances are by the time later in the week rolls around I won’t care anymore.
…and that’s 516 words and I made it and I’m done. 34q∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞q89erl;f gporti]403958 ::wake me up for meals::