Dammit, I’m at a crossroads on what to do with some of my work. I hate when I get rejections from these literary magazine, well, rather that I see that my stories are too long for their submission requirements, and I might as well not bother submitting. I wonder what they do with those–the people that submit the stories that are too long. “Wow, look at that work count. Just over. Scrap it.” I know they have a job to do, and manuscripts and manuscripts to read. I’m not knocking them. It’s just that when I write something, and it’s right the way it is (to me, and whoever else I had read it), it sucks that it could get the trash because it’s too long.
So, one of the things I’m thinking is that I’ll self-publish my first book–a collection of short stories (maybe poetry). I’ve mentioned this before, it’s just I’ve taken a break from it because I started a novel. By the way I’ve started another. I couldn’t let the ideas go, so while I’ve been editing the first novel, I started the second one. They’re both going to be weird, and it feels weird to have written a novel, and to say I wrote a novel. The collection of short fiction is something I’ve been working on for some years now–I guess since college when I began writing seriously. I have published some of those narratives on Zouch Magazine (I love them), and some of the poetry (goodness!) as well. I’m excited. I didn’t really want to go the self-publishing route right now, in this state, but I’ve thought about it, and I think it’s a good way to get started and get my name out while I’m young…and I am young, when I put it in perspective to the writers we all love from history–all starting to publish in their 30s and stuff. Happy Tuesday.