Another one for the collection

Last week I posted about Doing the To Dos, and I was pleased with myself for getting my butt in gear and submitting the stories I’d been meaning to submit.

One of the two I submitted last week, the story I wrote for a call on a specific topic (a topic on which I felt I had a lot to say) was rejected by form letter in eight days.

Ouch.

Not even a flicker of consideration there. And there’s not a lot of positive I can take away from this other than it’s practice at being rejected.

I will admit that I sulked for a couple of days.

But last night I sat down and started writing again. Well, world-building technically, but it all needs to be done before I can get to the meat of the story. So I’m staggering back up onto my feet.

Time to haul out the Tubthumping again, I guess.

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Mental Block

I have this strange mental block when it comes to writing fiction.

Creative non-fiction is my adopted genre. I only discovered it was a thing in January of this year, but it was one of those revelatory moments that simply put a name to the kind of thing I’d been trying to write all my life. Continue reading

Cut, cut cut. Snip, snip, snip.

The piece I’m working on at the moment is targeted for a specific publication. They have a call out for stories on a topic about which I feel I have a lot to say. I was poking around on their website yesterday, to check deadlines and such, when I realised that their word limit for creative non-fiction is 3,500. This became a problem, since my piece was sitting at 4,100 words and wasn’t finished yet. Continue reading