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.




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