It’s nearing the time of year where I take a break from submitting and writing short stories. In November I will be doing Nanowrimo again and taking some time to make some decisions.
This past year I have far exceeded the goals I set for myself last year.
In the last 12 calender months I have sent 51 submissions. That is more than huge for me. I not only submitted new things I also submitted old ones. Giving my own work another chance has been really difficult for me and every time I send a piece back out into the wild after it has been rejected I want to give myself a fucking cookie.
I also have been writing and letting other people read my essays. I have gotten some published.
Making the leap from blogging, to essaying to then sending those essays places has been hard. It hurts. Unlike submitting fiction, submitting essays makes me nervous. I can’t help but have that moment where I fully believe that if the piece gets rejected it’s somehow personal. I know it probably isn’t personal but I can’t help it.
I’m doing things and writing things that make me immensly happy.
So while I am in the midst of writing a novella during November I’m going to decide what to do next. I’m not sure what else I need to do. I may not set any goals.
Actually no wait there will be a few.
I do know that next year I would like to put together a finely edited chapbook and shop it. As in actually send it to indie presses.
Shit I might do two. One literary and one smutty.
This feels like an era of something. Since I turned 30, I don’t know what got into me but I like it.
Perhaps as I am approaching my official mid 30’s I will take up a new arty thing to go along with my writing.
I am looking forward to everything.
I’m going to some new things for Nanowrimo. I’m going to try using a more solid outline this year. I have had a note of a plot sitting around, a horror novella. Werewolves in Seattle. More about it later.