Friday I recieved payment and a contract for the anthology story. Contract says it'll be published by DAW books in 2007. Yippeeeeeee! The check is just gravy. I almost want to frame it instead of cash it. Almost. I'll keep a photocopy, probably. I'm sure that's a crime of some sort but I don't care. In celebration of my first writing sale and my 31st birthday (which is today), Ken and I are buying a digital camera. Finally entering the 21st century. Ken is usually such a techie-geek with computers and gaming, you'd think we'd already have one. He's camera-shy, though, and so it's never been a priority for him. He's willing to make the concession, though, since I've made a sale.
I feel pretty good, having sold a story. But it also makes me think of how far I have to go to reach my writing goals. One story is basically nothing--lots of people sell a story and then you never hear from them again--but I want more than that. I want hundred, thousands, millions of people to read my books. I want to touch them, entertain them, open their eyes to other worlds with my words. This sale is the first step of about a thousand more I have to make. I feel a little intimidated by that.
This post turned out to be a little more philosophical than I intended. Maybe it's because I turn 31 today. For me, turning 26 was a lot harder than turning 25--I was suddenly in my late 20's, not mid-20's--and 31 is proving to be the same. I'm in my 30's now, not just on the cusp.
Last night I hosted a girl's night poker party. Two old friends and two new friends attended, and it was a blast. Three of the people had never played poker, so it was fun to teach them. I won, but the three newbies did really well considering it was their first time. One of the old friends is moving to California in a month, and I'm a little sad by it. I'm just going to miss her so fucking much. She's one of only a few people who knows I've sold a story. (For some reason I'm not shouting it from the rooftops. Don't ask me why. Maybe I'm reserving that for when I have an actual book in my hands.) Have to make the most of the time we have left. Sounds like she's dying, doesn't it? Maybe I'm being a little melodramatic. That seems to be the theme of the day.