Wow! What a frustrating
week it’s been for my writerly-self. No success of any kind has to be found,
even though I’ve sniffed around for it like a cartoon bloodhound (yes; with the
deerstalker hat, monocle, and pipe.)
Two competitions – good ones, with
actual cash prizes! – looked promising, and I began working on submissions,
convinced I qualified for both. Then came harsh reality, slapping me around the
chops.
Competition 1: Undiscovered/ underrepresented
writers. Yes! That’s me!! I’m undiscovered and underrepresented. Me, Sir, me!!!
Well, nope, not underrepresented in one important aspect (which shall not be
mentioned), so that was a no-go.
Never mind, there’s always…
Competition 2: Underrepresented, you
say? Why, that’s me, Miss, me! Hmm, the wording of the entry is a little loose
and fuzzy, I know, I’ll email and ask for clarification, and while I wait, I’ll
get started on my entry. Hurray! Entry going well, have words on the page,
vague idea where I’m heading, but… Oh, no! This cannot be!! I’m (so it
transpires) too successful? How can that be?
Holds up left hand, while
accessing online banking with the right. Checks account balance. Are you sure
I’m too successful? Because…
As I said, frustrating week. And then, another thing
happened to add to it (third time’s the charm though, right?)
My firstborn child – not my real-life
daughter, but my in-need-of-extra-support literary child, The Dendrites,
got rejected. Again. I don’t even recall submitting it to this particular
publisher, and I know it’s a tough child to love (The Undateables would
never have it on; not even that nice lady at Flame Introductions would take it
on, and she loves a challenge,) but I’m sad for it, nonetheless. It’s my
firstborn, after all.
Still, onwards, and upwards we
trudge. Something good is gonna happen, no?
https://youtu.be/ixMWhpg0iXU
