The Launch Pad lectures inspired me (well, Rachel’s notes on them inspired me) to write a story called Buckets of Light, a short piece about a black hole and how we don’t know everything about everything just yet. That’s in the slush pile at Clarkesworld and it’s been there since Friday, so I’m expecting a response any time now. I’m expecting a rejection.
My story set in the 1930s, The Ash Princess, is in the slush pile over at Apex. It’s been there since the 3rd August, so I’ve got a while to wait on that one.
Angeline of the Woods was rejected by Drollerie Press yesterday, and The Reason of Feathers Justice B. by Weird Tales on the 16th July.
Symphonie Magnifique is under the editor’s critical eye for the Clockwork Chaos anthology.
Playing Red Dead Redemption has made me want to write a ‘sequel’ to The Ash Princess set around 1959, when the characters are older and winding their lives down.
The last piece of fiction I had published was Of Mice and Journeymen, in issue #6 of SPM. That came out almost a year ago now. Before that, I had Mind Games in issue #5 of Concept Sci-Fi, released in April ’09 and now sadly no longer around.
I guess I’m just feeling a little disheartened at the moment. It’s not even like I can call it a ‘dry spell’, because that implies a period of wet. Since my first acceptance in 2007, I’ve had 6 pieces of fiction and one piece of non-fiction published, all in non-paying venues.
I know you’ve just got to keep hitting at the wall until a chink of light breaks through. I know my writing is becoming better and better. And I write because I have to, because it’s the way my brain processes the world it’s stuck in. And I want to have my writing published because there’s a conversation happening, an exchange of thoughts and feelings and ideas and I want to be an active part of it, because I’ve got something worth contributing. So I’m going to keep writing, keep sending things out and keep getting rejected.
But what’s the point in having a blog if you can’t be a bit maudlin once in a blue moon? What’s the point in being human if you can’t admit that it gets to you once in a while?
Ho, well. My writing ‘career’ my suck at the moment, but the universe is awesome. Full of black holes and main sequence stars and cosmic dust clouds and gas giants and rocky planets drifting through the goldilocks zone, and I’m a part of it whether I’m being published or not.
Feels good to get all this into words. Although I do now want a bag of crisps or a bar of chocolate, which I really shouldn’t have because I’ve put on so much damned weight over the past couple of months.
So, I’ll be good.
Back to the blank page…
