This has got to stop.

For the past week--ever since I submitted my killer Survivor story--I find myself compulsively checking my e-mail. I think it's because I really like the story and have high hopes that it will be accepted. The editors said they would respond by the end of June. I have to find a way to get over this obsession--there is a contest and an open anthology whose deadlines are the end of June, and dammit, I'm submitting to both of them if it kills me. Checking e-mail every half-hour is cutting into my writing time.

shameless author plug

I'm going to try and get fancy here and post a link to one of my writer-friend's book. Here it is. It's his first book called WebMage, so everyone one reading this blog (that's right, all five of you) have to order it right now so he has awesome debut-novel sales.

I got your back, Kelly Y.

da kitties

musings

So last week I got an e-mail from one of the women in my book club. A few months ago I had announced I was having a short story published. This woman, I'll call her Xena, has apparently always wanted to write a book and so finally worked up the nerve to ask for my advice. (I say worked up the nerve because it did take her a few months to contact me, after all. And it's a big leap of faith to tell people you want to be a writer.) We're meeting for drinks and dinner tomorrow night. On one level I feel like I'm the worst person she could ask--I'm a publishing-world rookie, what do I know?--but on another I feel like I've got some good advice to give a newbie. I'm thinking of swinging by the bookstore before we meet so I can pick up a copy of Stephen King's "On Writing" to give to her. In my mind I can picture us as writing buddies, like we'll meet once a week at out-of-the-way coffee shops to write and inspire one another. That would be very cool.

Which brings me to my next musing. To someone like Xena, I'm a writer. I've written three books, I'm having a story published, my current goal is to submit a story a month to various places, I'd like to have another book written by November. In my mind, though, I don't feel like a "real" writer. How do I know this? I'm trying to decide if I should apply to have a reading during World Fantasy Con in November--maybe the story that will be published, maybe something else--and the rookie in me says that I'm not qualified yet. I don't have enough of a resume to give a reading. Why would an agent want to hear my words? I'm nobody. But then I tell myself that everyone starts somewhere, that an agent would come hear what I've written because I'm a nobody and he's looking for new talent, that the only way to be a "real" writer is to act like one. I keep oscillating between the two. Maybe after dinner with Xena I'll be so jazzed that I'll apply for a reading slot before I have time to question myself. The margaritas will grease the way, probably.

It hurts to blog

This year I've joined a summer softball league, and Sunday was our first practice. Actually, I think it maybe our only practice. Anyhoo, I hustled. I jumped. I threw. I ran. I batted. I got sunburned. And I woke up the next day pretty stiff and creaky. Monday was our first game. I hustled. I ran. I batted. I threw. Tuesday I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. It hurt to walk down steps. It hurt to walk up steps. It hurt to laugh. I hurt to drive. I'm so fucking old.

An interesting side note: I ended up in the ER after practice on Sunday for reasons completely unrelated to ball. I've had a recurring stomach pain for the last couple of years. Sunday after dinner it hurt so bad I was doubled over and on the verge of tears. Ken convinced me to go to the ER, where I was told I have an ulcer. What the fuck. The list of foods/drinks I'm supposed to stay away from is basically a list of my favorites: spicy foods, carbonated beverages, citrus fruits, and alcohol. I guess this means lemon drop shots are out. I say chocolate martinis and white russians are still in; any liquor with milk can't be all bad. Stupid ulcer.

Finally finished up the Survivor short story. Next on deck are two short story contests/open anthologies for June. One is a dark fantasy contest, word limit 4000 words. The other is a sword-and-sorcery assasin anthology. I have all sorts of thoughts swirling in my head; I just gotta pluck out two and get crackin'.

"United 93"

I have conflicting feelings about whether or not I should see this movie. I feel that as an American, I need to see this film so I can honor the passengers and their sacrifice. But I don't think I'm strong enough as a person to go see it. I just don't think I'm ready.

Everyone remembers where they were when Kennedy was assassinated, when Princess Diana died, and when the planes hit the twin towers. It's one of those events that etches itself into the collective conscious. It bonds us together because we all watched and grieved together. For me it's too soon to go back.