One Hundred Days of Blogging – Day Twenty-Three

Before I even start with today’s post, I need to mention a gem I forgot last night. That whole post about my workstation, happy as I am to have the desk and desktop set up, was written on my phone. If you’re feeling an overwhelming urge to roll your eyes about now, that’s probably a natural response to such a statement and it should be embraced. Go on. Roll them like someone just told a really awful joke.

This post is going to follow my writing and creative efforts of the day, with some degree of detail (with some omitted because I don’t want to bore anyone to death). That way I can focus on this, but focus more on the proofreading, writing, and submissions I need to get done today, as well as get a little cleaning done in preparation of Marceline (Or maybe Meowrceline? No, that’s just awful.) being brought home. In case I failed to mention it explicitly: there will soon be three cats wandering my house, which means the cats will outnumber humans. If I go missing for a great length of time, assume I’ve expired and the cats have made a meal of me.

Veering back on topic and away from whatever dark place that joke went, this post will also provide a great way for me to scold myself later for not being able to stay on task for more than ten minutes at a time (that’s a really generous estimate). Typed that last sentence while thinking how I could really benefit from a shower and some breakfast about now.

Prepare to be bored, probably. Or amused. Maybe a mix of those two things. Boredmused? Whatever. Continue reading

Let the nail-biting…begin.

Or “I haven’t sent anything out for publication consideration for far too long, and now that I have I’m nervous.”

It would be quite accurate to say I’ve been keeping myself busy with writing since the start of 2014. I’ve churned out hundreds of pages (somewhere upwards of five hundred now, actually), which is exciting, but it is by no means a reflection of how good the writing is. Or isn’t. My goal of seeking publication isn’t exactly a secret, in the sense that I’ve practically taken over a major cable channel to broadcast that tidbit at all times possible (except from 3a.m. to 5:30a.m., because everyone knows those times belong to the infomercials). The writing side of things has gotten to be second nature, but the seeking publication parts are still murky waters for me. Self-published work aside, I’ve got three by-lines to my name. Related: my god, I’ve not used that phrase since my days at Point Park. Anyway, there’s my Wreck-It Ralph review, there’s the extended non-fiction piece on modern sword collectors (which isn’t exactly readily available for people outside of Edinboro University), and “The Glasmoor Beldam” (not available yet).

Needless to say, I want to get more things published. However, I’m also bad at sorting those bits out. I know, I know. If I had as much drive for figuring out the best approach to getting published as I do for excusing my nervousness about publishing, I’d have a bazillion titles out there for people to enjoy. I’m all too aware of this.

I broke out the external hard drive (which is named Heart of Gold, because why not?), dusted off Death at Teatime, and found a magazine. A copy of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy would come in handy about now, though I imagine I would still fail to follow its advice to not panic.

Now I play the waiting game. Fingers, toes, and other applicable appendages crossed. Here’s hoping Death at Teatime has finally earned a home somewhere.