I’ve noticed the myth of Icarus popping up a fair bit lately, and I couldn’t help but think about it in my own dopey sort of way. Most everyone has some sort of ultimate dream-goal they’d like to achieve (so says the guy who wants to become a relatively well-known author), and I think it’s safe to say those dream-goals usually exist at some sort of lofty heights and require a great deal of hard work and sacrifice. It’s Obvious Day here at Misadventures in Fiction, in case anyone hasn’t noticed.
To recap briefly: Icarus soared too high, the sun melted the wax binding his wings together, and he fell to his death. A cautionary tale, no doubt, of how dangerous pride can be. As dangerous as sweeping generalizations may be, I think it’s safe to say Icarus’ fall is the most well-remembered detail. But what about the rest of Daedalus’ warning? He also warned Icarus to not fly too low. In order to escape successfully, Icarus would have to find the perfect height at which to fly; not proud and close to the sun, but without holding his head low so as to not be swallowed up by the sea. Finding such a balance is something that can be applied to pretty much anything in life, but we can safely say I’ll be focusing on finding that balance in creative adventures (and misadventures). I’m not speaking as an expert on the topic, as I was accused of being my own worst enemy yet again tonight. Whoops. Continue reading
Today’s been a damn good day for me. That statement overlooks how I spent work in a haze, half-asleep, for reasons unknown. Naturally such comments require explanation, and I’m happy to provide it. If only I could type without it coming out like I’m rolling my face along the keyboard.
I promised some playlists, and I’ll be following through on that for tonight’s post. Why? Because I haven’t packed a single article of anything yet, which is probably not ideal since I leave tomorrow. I also only made one playlist/CD so far, so I’m a pretty tremendous failure in that regard, too. However, I did send off my signed contract with Cary Press and I am tremendously excited to really dig into work on my first published novel. Expect lots of fun from here on out, folks. Continue reading
I took a short, unexpected vacation from a lot of the Internet, and an actual, scheduled vacation to Edinboro this past week, and both of those things proved tremendously helpful. The latter more so than the former, of course, but that’s because it involved good times with friends (and, of course, shitty fast food and some alcohol consumption).
The week also involved a good deal of editing on “Death at Teatime” because it received its first proper letter of rejection. I sent it to a magazine titled Bartleby Snopes (absolutely, definitely check out their page and read some of the stories they’ve published, because it’s really enjoyable), and within twenty-four hours I received a detailed, polite, and very nice rejection. Despite my anxiety over the whole affair, this ended up really giving me a boost to get this story fixed up more and sent out again. The only major issue I could fix without a total rewrite involved a few odd point of view shifts. A couple other little tweaks were made, thanks to the very helpful editorial eyes of a handful of people, and I looked around on Duotrope again on Thursday night. Sent it out for its second go at getting published, and I’m hopeful so far.
Regardless, I’m going to keep at this until I get published, or die of old age; whichever one happens first.
Speaking of Thursday, or Thor’s Day perhaps, I did get accosted by a drunk man who I only know as Thor. That’s a story I won’t be sharing, mind you, but it’s worth mentioning because it’s one of a few things that helped make this past weekend a memorable one.
Writing and whatnot will resume tomorrow, once I feel less dead from staying up far too late.
Submitting a work for publication reminds me a lot of what it felt like to ride my first real roller coaster, which, by the way, was Millennium Force at Cedar Point and, frankly, it scared the hell out of me.
As did submitting this story. There was the choice: I picked, from the search results Duotrope spat out (a really handy web site, by the way, should you find yourself looking for places to send writing to). In the case of Cedar Point, my friend chose Millennium Force because he was a weaselly little bastard and knew I’m afraid of heights. The anticipation and, let’s face it, fear while in the queue, so to speak. Finally, the thrill of hitting send and knowing, acceptance or rejection, I’ve finally grown enough of a backbone to get this far with something that wasn’t my school’s literary magazine.
Millenium Force actually just made me scream noiselessly for about half a minute before I though I was going to black out, but that’s really where the comparison falls apart (except not really, because I’m actually losing my mind over whether or not it’ll get accepted).
However, after much panicking and worrying over specifics and editing the absolute crap out of it, I’ve finally sent “Death at Teatime” off for publication consideration. Something I should have probably done sooner, based on the choruses of “It’s about damn time” the news was met with over on Facebook. Updates on how that goes will follow, naturally.
More importantly, I have ideas for writing, which is awesome since I haven’t had ideas I liked in weeks. Weeks, people. That’s way too freaking long for me not to be able to get writing done, because then I start considering what weird possibilities could happen in real life and that’s not good for anyone.