Pure Masochism

Submitted my short story about the vampire cows to a magazine called Weird Tales, on Sunday. Unfortunately, they are almost filled up for 2009, so my chances aren't that great. The move to our new place kind of threw everything out of whack for a while, and I didn't get to submit it even close to as soon as I orignally wanted to.

Still working at my temporary job. No idea how much longer they'll need me. Hopefully for a while yet.

I'm going to see if I can find where I put my Writer's Market after I unpacked my writing books, and start compiling a list of other publications to reject my story.

No, I'm not depressed. In a very masochistic way, I find it amusing, even while I'd rather just have someone stomp all over me repeatedly. I need to get all of my rejection letters out and hang them on the wall again, so I can laugh maniacally until someone comes at me with a straight-jacket.

Writing is a love-hate relationship with the voices in your head.

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To Market, To Market...

As I sat down to update this blog and pondered what to write about, my daughter decided that she wanted to climb into my lap and volunteer her services. Being that most people are not fluent in reading baby gibberish, however, the backspace key came quite in handy.

I have been perusing markets to submit my short story to, seeing as it didn't win the contest. I have found some promising leads; one in particular seems like it would be a perfect match. They are not open to new submissions until March 31st, however, so in the meantime, I'm going to go back over my story and see if there's anything I want to change. I felt like I pared my story down so much, cutting out a lot of good description and dialogue, just to meet the word limit for the contest. This particular publication, however, has larger word limits, and so I might add some things back in.

I don't want to add things just for the sake of adding, though. I think I will have to get some outside opinions on this.

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