Well, I decided to tighten it up (A LOT) and submit it to a writing competition, which I never do because I’m lazy. But as of two weeks ago, I decided to start submitting stuff because I don’t want to waste my life. John Keats died when he was like 25. I’m 23 almost 25. I’m almost dead!!!
Well, “I’m not one to brag” BUT . . Check this out (you’ll need to scroll down to the bottom of the post to read comments about my piece):
The editor called me today. He is very kind and we had an exciting conversation with interruptions and all. He will be working with me over the next few days on polishing my piece for publication on the site and later in an anthology (an actual book – woo hoo!) at the end of this year. I’ll let you know when my new and improved work is up on the website (and later about the book).
Anyway. I never win things. Or at least I haven’t since like middle school Jazz Choir. Small as this is (I know it’s not the New Yorker or some critically-acclaimed site), I’m so happy about all of it. I get to help judge future contests too.
The truth is. What I’m most happy about is bragging rights to Ryan:
“Whoever hasn’t won a writing contest has to clean the bathroom . . . ”
“Well, I’m not all the way sure about it, but I mean, come on. I have won a writing contest before. Take my word for it.”
“Well that all depends, Ryan. Have you won a writing contest before?”
“My taste in writing is better than your taste in writing, Ryan. I mean. I won writing. Do you not remember?”
“Now, I want you to answer this question truthfully: Out of all the people in this room, who has won a writing contest? Let the answer to that question guide you to the correct decision about who should cook dinner tonight.”
Anyway. I’m feeling inspired, guys. Perhaps too inspired. (Bracing myself for all the rejection letters on their way. I know Ryan will hold the rejection letters against me: “Who has received the most rejection letters in this family?” I’m hating him already.)