Last October I happened upon a call for submissions to the Washington City Paper’s fiction issue. True to my usual love/hate/can’t stop/won’t stop relationship with procrastination, I waited until a few days before the deadline to get serious. I knew I’d wasted over a month and wouldn’t be able to write something great in time. So, I decided I would only submit something, anything, just to be able to say I’d attempted. Maybe that would jump start my regular writing/submitting pieces to various outlets. No, that doesn’t make much sense because it still doesn’t address the procrastination. You’re expecting me to be normal NOW? FRIENDS, Y’ALL ARE DRUNK.
The deadline was November 1, 2012 at midnight. At 9:00 that night I threw together two stories I’d started but hadn’t finished, blended them a bit, added a bit, cut out a bit, added some back in, shook, stirred, did the Hokey Pokey. At exactly midnight I hit send. And then I turned off the computer and said oh, well, AT LEAST I WROTE AND SUBMITTED SOMETHING. It felt good even though it wasn’t what I would consider a personal best. Oh boy. A few weeks later I received an email that included the words “admired your work.” I think I hit the floor.
I called my husband immediately with an excited Guess What! I’m pretty sure his initial response was chicken butt.
I am promising myself to keep up this momentum. When I found out the issue would publish the first week of January, I knew that was a sign: start the year with this, keep it going. When I found out there were over 50 submissions and that “fiction issue” meant only THREE had been selected from the 50+ — Floor.
The story is here. I am proud. I am still a bit surprised but I also know I deserve the honor. And I am still on the floor. That girl has not swept under the table in days, apparently.