Sent off my fourth submission today, which means I’m on track for my 52 Submissions Per Year project and can cross off January.
To break it down, I sent one story out to one market and have not yet heard, and a second story I’ve sent out three times. The first two replies were rejection, one form and one personal, and now I’ve sent it out to a third market today, one that usually offers feedback. (Thank you, Duotrope, for your handy list of markets that often give personal responses!) I am favoring electronic submissions only at the moment, for a number of reasons: it’s generally a faster turn-around, the cost is only time and not postage or printing, and, in a weird way, I figure the faster I send stuff out and get rejections back, the more quickly my skin will thicken.
It did take some doing to find a market for my weird little story, so fingers crossed. After having three rejections on it so far (two personal, one form) I am a bit conflicted, both encouraged and resigned. It’s lead to some intriguing speculation as to what else I might be able to do with it, and that may lead to some free-writing later.
On the writing front, I’m a bit of a shabu-shabu at the moment.
Shabu-Shabu is a Japanese dish, similar to a hot pot where you cook thin slices of meat and vegetable in a pot of hot broth. Things go in, come out, a great mixing of flavors, and at the end the broth carries a bit of everything it has touched. For great images and links, check out here where there is a terrific photo, here where you can watch a video on it, and here for general wikipedia goodness.
Everything I’m reading or thinking about is all going into the pot, mingling together, simmering, flavors blending. I feel scattered-brained about it, but I don’t think this is my regular ditzy-daydream-starstruck goofiness going on. (And I do get those days.) And I am having a hard time articulating what’s steaming in the old noggin of mine.
So, that’s it. For now.
(Apologies to the good folks at SuperBuzzy, a Japanese fabric supplier, whose picture I took without permission.)