Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Commitment, Action

(Takes a deep breath)
I'm going to write, dammit, and I'm going to be published. I've been a voracious reader all my long life, and a closet writer for just about as long. I will do this.

What prompted this? In a word: rejection.

A few months ago I dusted off the concept of a short story I wrote about 20 years ago, about a rabid Boston Red Sox fan who attempts to lift the "Curse of the Bambino" from the team in 2004, after the eighty-some years of inexplicable bad fortune that followed the team's sale of Babe Ruth to the Yankees.

I thought the story was pretty good. I submitted to Fantasy Magazine. It was politely rejected.

Clarksworld. Rejected.

Apex. Rejected.

Maybe the story wasn't so good. I determined to try again.

Over the past few weeks I've been squeezing a few hours here and there writing a story about a fairy named Tinkerbelle who helps in the hunt for Osama Bin Laden. It's been a fun ride, and I can see already the results of practice; it's a much better piece of work.

We'll see what happens when I finish it, polish it, and push it out into the cruel world.

It's writing, dammit.

To channel Yoda: "There is no try; do or do not."

Here we go.

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